


A Wretched Ark

by RockyMountainRattlesnake



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Aliens, Brainwashing, Episode Style, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Jack and Donna kick some ass here, Nightmares, Nine is just done, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Someone Help Ten, Time Loop, Time Travel, Trauma, Virtual Reality, eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2020-12-23 17:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 87,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21085142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockyMountainRattlesnake/pseuds/RockyMountainRattlesnake
Summary: Donna and the Doctor find themselves aboard an abandoned 51st century hospital ship. While they're exploring, the Doctor is trapped inside a machine that plunges him into a world he never wants to leave. Things seem perfect- but there’s a darker side to the system, and escaping its clutches will be a nightmare.It’s up to Donna to rescue him- and to do that, she’s got to call up reinforcements from the Doctor’s past.





	1. Prologue

When Donna first stepped into her room on the TARDIS, she’d been impressed by the plushness, the sumptuousness of it all. A richly tiled bathroom, a dresser with a floor-length wall mirror beside, a bed that went on for acres. A window with a little nook to read, and a fireplace in the far wall. A desk and bedside table and so much else besides.

One thing that stuck out amid all the rich cherry wood, though, was a small pink post-it note stuck to the mirror.

Door closed, Donna had pulled it off and taken a closer look, expecting some important postscript from the Doctor.

It wasn’t.

_Hey Donna,_

_If the Doc ever gets his head stuck someplace and you can’t get him out, give me a call. _

_-Jack. _

_PS: I do NOT mean stuck up his ass, that’s your job to fix._

_PPS: Don’t tell the Doctor about this note. He'll freak out._

Beneath that was a phone number with _twenty fucking digits._

Donna had stuck the post-it back on her mirror. Something about it felt important, somehow.

She left the note where it was, and learned to ignore it. Maybe someday it would mean something.

She never told the Doctor.

And she never got rid of the note.


	2. Chapter 2

“Alright, Donna?” The Doctor called, “You ready?”

His redheaded companion came sauntering down the corridor in a long sundress and a broad-brimmed hat, sunglasses already on and a towel slung over her shoulder. She was carrying a big bag full of god knew what else, and he beamed at her.

“Am I ready? Bloody hell, Doctor, it’s been too long since we had a nice break. Now, no funny business this time- you promised me a beach, and that’s where we’re going to go. Yeah?”

“Oh, yes! And not just the beach- I promised you Abraxis-5. It’s nothing but archipelagos, only one large continent. The water’s warm enough to swim anytime of year, and you’ll love the jewelbugs!” The Doctor pulled away from the railing he’d been leaning on, sauntering over to the controls with his longcoat flapping about behind him.

Donna held on to a nearby railing as he set all the controls and yanked the lever, laughing madly as his ship lurched to life and flung them out of the Vortex.

They landed less-than-gracefully, the Doctor falling on his ass to a chorus of laughter from his friend, and he grinned at her without a bit of shame.

“I meant to do that!”

“Of course you did, spaceman. Of course you did. Now, where’s your beach wear? Swim trunks? Anything?”

The Doctor gestured at his suit and quirked an eyebrow. “What, this not good enough?”

Donna lifted up her sunglasses so he could see her derisive glare at full power.

“Trainers? In the sand? Doctor, you’ll get them all gritty and then bitch about it later. Go put some shorts on.”

“Naaaah!” he waved her off, digging one hand into his pocket and emerging with a pair of dark blue star-shaped sunglasses, “These are all I need, and even then, that’s just to fit in!” he slid them on, letting Donna have a giggle at his expense, and lead her towards the door.

“Well now, Miss Donna Noble,” he said, “Had you taken a proper interstellar flight here, you’d have been given a little flower necklace on your way off the ship. But, you’re stuck with me. So, allow me to welcome you to… ABRAXIS-5!” he flung the door open, grabbing Donna by the hand and pulling her out.

…Into a grey, dark, cramped hallway. No tropical sun and miles of sandy beaches. No Jewelbugs scuttling about, gleaming like gemstones. No flying glow-rays. Just a long hallway, snaked with ducts and cables, dark grey and silver.

“…Uhh, Doctor?” Donna said, lifting her sunglasses, “This doesn’t look like Abraxis-5. This… this looks like a ship.”

“Yeah,” The Doctor said, “I- yeah. A ship. Definitely a ship. Something’s up.”

He took a few steps down the corridor, peering along the length of it.

“Hello?” he called, “Anyone home?”

His voice echoed down the hallway.

He turned back, taking in that the TARDIS was just small enough to fit; it was blocking the hall in the other direction. They wouldn’t be able to get by.

“Doctor,” Donna said, “I- can I get changed first? And then we can do- whatever it is you’re going to do? I just, I’m in a bathing suit under this, and- I’d rather not go running in flip-flops-“

Visions flashed in front of his eyes. Falling into the sun. His ship trapped behind thick steel-

“Yeah. Yeah, go- go do that. I’ll- I’ll wait here.” He said, edging back towards his ship.

As Donna ducked inside to get changed into something a bit more danger-friendly, the Doctor looked at the ceiling. He could hear a little servo whirring away somewhere up above, and craned his head up to look.

“Hello, what’re you?” he mumbled.

Mounted above his head was a big round device like a camera with the lens taped over; it was on a motorized cradle and was tracking his movements.

Interesting.

He waved his arm away from his body. The camera-thing didn’t move.

“Not scanning for movement, eh?” he asked it. Took a step to the side- it followed. Then a shuffle back left- it followed.

“So you’ll follow my whole body, but not my arms. What are you scanning for…?” he narrowed his eyes.

“Psychic energy, maybe?” he mumbled, looking around.

Something about this ship was making the small hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and it wasn’t just that he had no idea where he was.

The Doctor ducked inside the ship to check his monitor, just as Donna was emerging in a shirt and some jeans.

“Alright, Doctor, I’m ready to go running from giant scorpion-wasps or whatever it is you’ve cooked up today. Where are we, anyhow?”

He peered at the monitor, specs on, and leaned back.

“Hmm. Horsehead Nebula, by the look of it. You’re a long way from home, Donna….in space and time. The early fifty-first century, to be precise.”

At that, the Doctor frowned, brows furrowing.

“Something wrong?” Donna asked as she sidled up next to him, looking at the screen herself. And fat lot of good that did, since it was all in his alien circle gibberish.

“Not really. Well, sort of. This ship looks like a human military ship, which makes a bit of sense. There’s a war on in this part of the universe, roughly nowish. Humans and Taurans… Big old misunderstanding, that. It gets cleared up in the end, after you’ve all thrown a few million young people into the meat grinder for no reason. But-“ he peered in at the screen, “That- hang on. The date-“

He ran a hand through his hair, thinking.

“…It’s ten years after the Geneva-Traibeq treaty. Peace was declared a full decade ago. What’s a military ship doing out here a decade after the war’s over?” he said.

“How about we keep wondering that, and go to the beach instead?” Donna suggested wearily, knowing full well that the Doctor was about to cheerfully ignore her.

“Naaaah,” The Doctor said, “Let’s go find out!”

Donna sighed as he dragged her out the door and back into the creepy hallway.

The Doctor heard the servos on the scanner whirring as he stepped outside, and turned back after a few steps to watch the not-camera.

The prickling in the back of his brain was getting worse.

It was staring at him. Not Donna. That ruled out a number of things. Heat sensor, for example.

“What do you want with me,” he mumbled, taking Donna’s hand and walking away from the device.

“What was that?” Donna asked, searching him up and down.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself.” He grinned at her, not the same honest one from earlier. This one more calculated. He didn’t want to worry her. Theorycrafting was a tricky business.

Still, this place was giving him the heebie-jeebies.

The Doctor wasn’t going to say anything, but he was glad she was here with him. As they kept walking, the prickling in the back of his head was getting worse. It wasn’t pain- more an itch- but he needed to figure out what was causing it. What this ship was doing here.

A few more steps-

Lights started to flick on ahead of them. Dozens of them, all down the hallway. And it wasn’t on the ceiling.

Lining the right side of the hall, a few steps ahead, were windows out into space, showing the majesty of the Horsehead Nebula. And to the left, a row of glass doors inset into the grey wall, with a small screen and keypad next to each, all turned off. Behind the doors, harsh white lights flicked on, one after another, after another. In sequence down the hallway.

From their angle, they couldn’t see what was behind those glass-walled doors.

A distant hum began, like the engines were firing up for the first time in God knew how long.

Donna shuddered. She reached out and grabbed the Doctor’s hand.

He squeezed back. Tight.

A whirring of servos, and the Doctor looked up to see another not-camera staring straight at him.

He let go of Donna’s hand and pulled out his sonic.

A quick glance back at his ship, just a dozen paces away.

Then forward, one step, two, and-

“Oh. Oh my God.” Donna whispered, hands flying up to cover her mouth in horror.

Through the glass door, they could see a small white room. Very, very small; about double the size of a coffin. A cabinet, really. A piece of white material was suspended about two feet off the floor, bridging the gap between the right and left wall; like a bed in this tiny little cell.

And laying on that bed was a human skeleton.

Not blackened. Not burned. Just a human skeleton, flesh rotted away, some ligaments desiccated on. A faded hospital gown clung to the bones, like they had simply been sleeping.

And attached to the skull was-

The Doctor took a step closer, opening the glass door. There was a simple steel handle inset into it.

“Doctor,” Donna pleaded, “Don’t.”

He looked at her, seeing the horror in her eyes, and back down at the handle.

“…Yeah. Okay.” He let go of the handle, looking in at the thing attached to the skull through the glass instead.

It wasn’t really attached; the skull had slipped loose of it. A close-hugging steel cap, with what looked like bumps or lumps inside; it was too shadowed to tell. The steel cap- it was hard to see the exact shape, but it clearly was meant to go over the head. A thick snaking cable of wires and motors connected it to the wall, and the Doctor followed its path with his eyes.

Nothing else. Just a human body in simple, plain clothing, and a strange device that had clearly been affixed to their head.

There was a small terminal to the side of the cell, but forcing it on with the sonic only revealed the one thing the Doctor didn’t want to know.

“Mark Hammond.” He said quietly, reading the patient’s information, who his doctor was-

Fuck.

“All these cells-“ Donna’s voice was quavering. The Doctor clenched his jaw.

He grabbed her hand. Felt her squeeze. Squeezed back.

Every cell they passed had a body in it. Every last one. A half-dozen cells went by, six human skeletons, all in simple scrubs.

“Prisoners?” Donna whispered, horrified.

“I don’t think so,” the Doctor said quietly, “I’m thinking medical. This must be a hospital ship. And if it is, it’s rubbish.”

Three doors down from them was a cell without lights on.

The Doctor let go of Donna’s hand, doing his best to ignore the way the monitors flickered to life as he walked past them. Tried not to read-

ROSE RUTHERFORD AGE 25

Rose.

He rammed a fist into those feelings that threatened to boil up, slamming them down into their proper place. With all the guilt he’d learned to stockpile and ignore.

Strode past the cell swiftly, eyes locked on the odd one out.

The unlit cell had nobody in it. The Doctor’s shoulders sagged in relief.

Donna was a few steps behind him. She reached out to grab his hand, pull him back, pull him towards the TARDIS.

A female voice rang out from a speaker overhead.

“Please remain calm. Treatment will begin shortly.”

“What-“ Donna started to say-

The door, the glass door, swung open on its own with a whirr from a hidden servo. It slammed Donna in the face, knocking her back, and as she recovered-

“DONNA!” the Doctor roared, and as her vision cleared-

The glass door was between them, and the Doctor was on the other side of it, sonic in hand, frantically wrestling with a robotic arm that had latched itself onto his wrist. It was pulling in- trying to tug him into the cell-

The Doctor shouted something nonsensical, jabbing his screwdriver at the arm, trying to kill it, come on, COME ON-

The soft-covered, segmented arm buzzed itself dead, releasing his wrist and dropping to the floor.

His shoulders sagged in relief.

“Patient resisting treatment. Please remain calm. We are here to help you. All will be well.” The kindly voice continued, and the Doctor’s eyes went very wide indeed.

Four arms, these ones unsegmented and smooth, lunged out of the room. They slid from hidden slots on the white wall, latching onto the Doctor’s arms and torso and hauling him forwards despite his thrashing. The sonic screwdriver fell from his fingertips, hitting the floor with a clatter-

Donna was pounding on the glass door, but it was just wide enough to block the hallway, just too tall for her to reach the top-

There was no bed-platform in this cell, and the arms yanked the Doctor in as gently as they could considering his thrashing.

The door swung closed the minute he was inside, Donna nearly falling over with it- she’d been slamming herself against the glass, trying to break it, and as she staggered to her feet-

The door didn’t close fully. The Sonic Screwdriver was wedged between the jamb and the glass- it must have pushed it into that spot- and Donna could hear all of the Doctor’s screaming and swearing.

The robotic arms had him up by the shoulders and up near the midcalf- all his thrashing was for naught. They turned him slowly around, front facing the door, and for a moment, Time Lord and Human made eye contact through the glass.

“DONNA!” he screamed, “GET OUT! GET TO THE TARDIS! COORDINATES FOR EARTH FOUR ONE SEVEN TWO EIGHT EIGHT AND ASK THE TARDIS-“

A slot in the middle of the far wall slid open, and Donna hammered as hard as she could on the door, desperate to get inside, because- because the helmet, the skullcap-

It was on a robotic arm itself, the thick bundle of cables full of segmented motors, and it arched down towards his head. The Doctor glanced back and saw it, screaming in terror, thrashing and jerking away from it. He tipped his head forwards, trying to keep it off him, trying to keep his head free, fighting for all he was worth-

It didn’t really slam into his head, more just placed itself there. Brown eyes locked onto Donna, terror and panic written all over his face, desperation-

“Help me,” two words, and was she imagining them-?

The helmet covered his forehead, over his ears and down to the back of his neck, and as the Doctor desperately tried to jerk his head away, there was a horrible sound of metal scraping on metal, and-

The helmet stuck fast to his head with a howl of pain the SHHHHNNNK of thin bits of steel sliding out stopping, suddenly-

For just a second, Donna’s eyes met the Doctor’s.

“Donna,” he croaked, “Get back to the-“

His eyes unfocused, head slowly drooping. His mouth drifted closed, eyelids drooping. A small metal screen slid down from the front part, covering his eyes, hiding them.

Donna froze, then, unable to do anything but stare.

Because as she watched, a small smile crawled its way onto the Doctor’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go...
> 
> If you loved it, if you hated it, please leave a comment! I may bump up the update schedule to be a little more regular if I get a large enough buffer of chapters written up. But let me hear your thoughts! Comments are fanfic fuel.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter now has a BRILLIANT bit of illustration, courtesy of summerartist! 
> 
> [And you can find it here!](http://summerartist.tumblr.com/post/190258695751/fanart-inspired-by-rockymountainrattlesnakes-fic)
> 
> Thank you so much!

“Doctor!”

“Doctor! **WAKE UP!” **

He pried his bleary eyes open, confused by the TARDIS ceiling overhead. What..?

Donna was leaning over him, hands on her hips. Sunhat on and arms folded, but dressed to go hiking. What-?

He sat up slowly, cradling his head. The ship- the bodies-

“Donna, what- what happened to that ship?” he mumbled, “Where- I got grabbed by some robotic arms, how did I get back to the-?”

Donna folded her arms and quirked an eyebrow.

“I don’t remember any spaceships. I DO remember a certain alien not sleeping for two weeks straight and then falling off his own jumpseat and passing out on the floor. I tried to move you, but you’re too bloody heavy.”

The Doctor stared at her.

“All a dream?” he repeated, “But- hold on, didn’t you want to go to Abraxis-5…?”

“I did! That’s where you said you’d be taking us. Then you passed out. You must have been having a nightmare or something.”

The Doctor shook his head, rubbing his eyes.

But the ship, the helmet-

“It felt so real…”

“Dreams are like that, when you’re neck-deep in ‘em,” Donna said sagely. She offered him her hand, and pulled him to his feet.

“Now then, Doctor, I believe you promised me some jewelbugs?” Donna said with a grin. The Doctor nodded, setting the coordinates and fussing with a few switches. He laid his hand on the lever to start the jump, and then stopped.

“Donna,” he said quietly, “why didn’t you wake me up if I was having a nightmare?”

Donna put her hands up. “You were being quiet for once, and you really needed to sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you. In case you decided you didn’t need to sleep for a month again.”

The Doctor nodded. Well, it made sense. To a human, at least.

A moment’s quiet contemplation, and then the manic grin was back on his face.

“Alright, then, Miss Donna,” he yanked the lever dramatically and clung on as the TARDIS pitched itself into the vortex, “Abraxis-5, coming right up!”

The sharp pitch into the vortex was, strangely, the only bit of jerking that the TARDIS did. She moved smoothly and gently, landing gracefully; didn’t even knock her passengers on their asses.

Flight was so smooth, in fact, that his thermos of tea hadn’t even fallen from its usual spot. A spot carefully picked so that when it did inevitably spill, it wouldn’t require him to give the console a tongue-bath…again.

The Doctor stared at his ship, confused.

“You feeling alright?” he whispered to her, stroking a bit of the console.

“Alright, well, you two clearly need some time alone, so I’ll just be going now,” Donna said with a chuckle. And she stepped out the door.

And straight back in.

“Doctor,” Donna said with a sigh, “We’re not at the beach.”

He nodded. “Of course we’re not. Alright, I’ll-“

“-We’re on some planet with red grass and two suns.”

The Doctor’s hearts seized.

“What…?” he whispered, whipping his head around to look at his console.

Pulled up their current spacetime coordinates.

Froze.

Coordinates 10-0-11-00:02 from Galactic Zero Centre.

“No…” he whispered, “It’s- it’s _impossible-“_

“They’ve got some nice silver towers,” Donna called- she’d been leaning out the door, “Doctor, where are we?”

He stomped towards the door, eyes wild, coat fluttering behind him, and shoved past Donna. Threw the doors open and stepped out-

One shoe hit the red grass with a crunch.

The other with another crunch.

And the Doctor just stared.

“Gallifrey,” he whispered, “Gallifrey…”

Silver-leaved psychic trees swayed in the breeze. The red grass swept all around him.

Donna, his TARDIS, everything else ceased to exist as he stepped forward, once, twice, spinning in circles, slowly, slowly-

The broken connection, the wall in his mind he’d built out of desperation, to block out the unending silence- he slowly reached for it.

Tore it down. Brick by brick.

It was impossible. It was impossible. It was GONE.

And yet.

Gallifreyans were a telepathic race. All of them. And on their home world, surrounded by untold scores of his brethren, there was music. All of them together, thinking, working, playing, building; the thoughts of his people formed a song, an endless song that never repeated.

Some called it the Song of Time itself.

And as the wall in his mind came crumbling down, it swept into him like a wave crashing ashore, a sound he hadn’t thought he’d ever hear ever again. The music of his people, humming, singing, all at once. Their thoughts all tangled together, and he heard it, he HEARD it-

The Doctor fell to his knees.

Lost. Utterly, utterly lost, lost in it, just for a moment, savouring the taste of something he thought he’d never have again.

“Doctor?” Donna called from somewhere behind him.

His only response was a hum, in time with the music. He’d never done this, never sang along to it; always wanted to escape, to get away from Gallifrey and their hivemind and stuffy traditions and stifling society, but- the song, the humming of his people, it had followed him. Always there. Always in his mind, just at the back.

A comfort. A cradling presence.

And then he’d destroyed it all.

And everything had gone silent.

He’d built the wall to stay sane, to cut himself off from the raw wound in his mind; a comfort for the endless screaming silence, the silence that threatened to drive him barking mad and probably already had done.

The hum changed, the song warping. Calling for him, singing out to him.

_I’m sorry, _he whispered, _I’m so, so sorry._

_You are forgiven, _they sang back, _we understand why. _

Six words to utterly unmake a man.

The tears started pouring down, and Donna wrapped herself around him. He was lost, again; they forgave him. They were all back, the war was over, and _they’d forgiven him._

The ache in his chest was starting to dull. Just a little. They may have forgiven him, but could he forgive himself?

And then Donna was in front of him, offering him a lift to his feet.

He took it. Trembling. Slowly standing, eyes wide as saucers.

How was it back? How? How was he standing here under the orange sky, watching the twin stars in their endless dance? How was he back to a world long since dead?

“I’m home,” he whispered to her, pulling her in for a hug. He didn’t want to close his eyes in case he woke up and it was all another dream. 

They stood there, together, for a very long time. Broad shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, the joy of being back, of being home, of the weight of his sins being lifted off his shoulders…

Donna held him through it all, his rock in the storm, petting his back and murmuring soft things that her mum and grandad used to say to her when she was a child. Words of comfort, words of joy.

He finally pulled away when the last of his tears had been shed, and Donna looked at the wet patch on her shoulder and grimaced.

“Lovely,” she muttered, “Alien snot. Thanks, Doctor. Just what I always wanted.”

And despite everything, the Doctor burst out laughing.

“Reckon that’s the first time I’ve got covered in alien slime _on purpose_, and not from some horrible swamp creature.” Donna noted with a deep sigh, and the Doctor was about ready to collapse with laughter, doubled over with his hands on his knees.

He was still shaking with the giggles, and fumbled out his screwdriver, setting it to clean. The spot was buzzed away in seconds, the only evidence he’d been blubbing his red face and eyes.

Donna patted his back, and the Doctor slung an arm over her shoulder.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he wondered aloud, still smiling. His voice was a bit teary, still, but that was fine; he felt so, so much better.

“Nowhere near enough.” Donna replied, looking into his eyes with a completely straight face.

As they stood, Donna turned and glanced towards the city. And saw something that gave her pause.

“Someone’s coming to say hello,” she said, nodding at a lone figure, walking through the grass.

The distant city, the sky overhead, his precious ship parked in an endless red sea, and there, walking towards him through the fields he’d played in as a child-

The Doctor’s eyes went very wide indeed.

Even from a distance he knew. Hair flowing down her back in golden waves. Her old jumper. Walking with purpose, an older woman, a stronger woman.

The Doctor’s breath caught in his throat and he damn near fell to his knees. Again.

“Rose,” he whispered, and he RAN, leaping, long sprinting strides like there was a Dalek right behind him. Bounding across the red-tinted prairie, eyes wide, hearts hammering. Donna tried to catch up, to follow him, and he left her in his dust.

He slammed into her hard enough to almost knock them both over, staggering a step with her in his arms and twirling her around to catch their balance, and he was babbling, now, just the most disjointed shit. Arms wrapped around her, pressing her against him, joy and relief flooding every cell of his body and slamming through his brain.

His hearts, his aching hearts, were thundering, and he felt her arms wrap around him, and-

She smelled the same, her laugh- her hair-

“ROSE!” he roared, grinning so hard it almost hurt. She was laughing, and smiling, and she was there, in his arms, and- and- and-

“How- I- How- The void-“

A million questions were ramming their way into his brain, tumbling over each other, smashing over furniture in their mad stampede for the exit of his mouth.

And all of them were getting tangled up and stuck.

Because Rose was smiling up at him, arms around him.

She was so warm.

“Rose,” he whispered, “Rose- How- how did you get back? How?!”

She winked at him.

“I called in a little favour,” she said, “An’ the answer’s really long an’ boring. Do you really want to hear it? Now?”

“Well, yes, actually, and I’d also like to know how you got to _Gallifrey _of all places in the univ-“

Rose rolled her eyes, grabbed him by the lapels, and pulled him down and kissed him.

The Doctor’s brain short-circuited, flipped all the lights off, and slammed the door on its way out.

“As chatty as ever,” she said with a big smile, releasing him.

“Uh,” the Doctor responded intelligently. He’d lost her, and he’d mourned her, and then the first thing she does when he finds her again is plant one right on his lips, which- Right, there was something he should probably do in this situation.

Oh yeah.

He pulled her in for a crushing hug. She smelled- just the same. Smelled like home. She was so warm, and alive, and human, and BACK, back here, back with him. She was back, back, back, no more white walls, no more nightmares, no more, NO MORE-

There was a strong urge to kiss her back, which, which-

She was back in his arms. She was BACK. In his ARMS.

He looked down at her, eyes full of hope, letting off the pressure of his hug, and she reeled him in for another kiss.

Warm.

Humans were so warm.

Just something closed-mouthed, simple, almost chaste, and he was flushed red, beaming down at her, eyes shining.

Something wet was running down his face. What-?

“Oi! For God’s sake, Doctor, some of us aren’t bloody rabbits!” Donna yelled, finally catching up. She was wheezing; staggering to a stop and bracing herself on her knees.

“Sorry Donna, I’m- I-“ he let go of Rose for long enough to gesture at her, and then at nothing in particular, long arms windmilling around. Words, words, come on, where were the fucking words? “Well, uh, Rose, this is Donna, she’s my friend, and Donna, this is-“

“Rose,” Donna said, straightening up. Her chest was still heaving, and she took the hand Rose offered and shook it, “You must be the famous Rose this idiot keeps pining after. Didn’t you get stuck in another reality or something?”

Rose grinned. “I got better.”

“She- yes. She did. Rose, you’ve got to tell me how, how did you get back?! I tried, I tried EVERYTHING- I tried breaking holes in spacetime, I tried folding Q-space into an entire alphabet of spaces, I- How?!”

She chuckled and put a finger to his lips.

“Later,” Rose said, “Aren’t ya gonna give us the tour first?”

“Tour-?” Oh. Right. _Gallifrey._ The whole “I’m not the last member of my species” freakout had gotten shelved for the “Holy shit Rose is back” freakout. Time to mix the two freakouts into one great big blubbing catastrophic freakout.

Brilliant.

He wiped the wetness off his face, turning back and looking at his TARDIS. And then at the gleaming silver city, not too far ahead.

“I- Sure. Yes.” Where WERE they, anyway? It would be a rubbish tour if it was the wrong part of the planet, not the one he was most intimately familiar with, but at the same time… he was home, he was HOME, he was home, and he could show it to the both of them-

He pulled them both in the direction of the gleaming silver city, feeling the wind in his hair, staring up at the silver-winged rays dancing overhead.

The song in his mind, singing as it always had and always would.

He blinked away tears as a sense of rightness pervaded his entire being.

They walked for a minute or an hour; the Doctor and Donna told Rose all about their adventures, the Racnoss, when they’d met the second time; the worlds they’d saved, that time Donna had pulled him out of a vat of very angry lemon jam, the time she’d gotten crowned queen of the Tybeks, Pompeii…

“Rose!” The Doctor said with a broad grin, “That’s enough about us. You. How’ve- you’ve been in the other world, haven’t you. How- what’s been happening?”

“Not much, to be honest,” she said, “Mooching around my parent’s house. Nothing to tell, really. Wishing I could get home, back here.”

Something wasn’t right about that, and the Doctor’s brow furrowed, but before he could say anything, Donna was yanking his hand and pointing at the city.

“We’re almost there. Oooh, what’s that?” She gestured to a gleaming silver spire with gold lines running up the side, and the Doctor smiled.

“That’s the city’s main library. Gotta keep records if you’re managing all of time, eh? Mind you, it’s a bit more like a giant computer than the libraries you’ve got on earth, but…well, nevermind. We’ll see if they’re open, It’s better if I just show you.” the smile on his face was, for once, not even a little bit put on. Free, easy, hands not in his pockets; excitement at getting to show them his world.

“It’s so beautiful,” Rose whispered, and the Doctor pulled her into his side.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I…I never thought I’d miss it.”

They walked down the street, strolling past people in long red-gold robes, past small children chasing after a floating hypercube, laughing; they strolled in the shadow of gleaming silver buildings, silent transport ships soaring overhead under the watchful eyes of the twin suns.

And it was as the Doctor was telling his two companions about the house of Lungbarrow, and how all the houses worked, and looms, that Donna saw something interesting on the other side of the street and stepped away from them.

It sounded like singing, like a group of Gallifreyans had gotten together and were having choir practice in an open-air forum, rather like a park. Donna was watching and listening with wide eyes, taking in the musical cadences of his native tongue, and the Doctor just chuckled. They were actually having a debate- and a stupid debate at that. An argument older than time, on Gallifrey.

“What’re they singin’ about?” Rose asked, eyes wide.

“They’re not singing, they’re arguing. And they’re arguing about our equivalent of chickens and eggs. Specifically, time loops. Who starts the time loop, and how much can you modify it? What sets them off, have they always been, will they always be? There’ve been Time Lords who’ve retreated to their spires and spent entire lives thinking on that and that alone. And as with all these things, you don’t get the answer by talking in circles, you get it by living it and breathing it, by moving through time loops yourself. Spoilers, the answer is “Who cares?” with a side order of “It’s complicated”.” the Doctor said with a dismissive shake of his head.

“How complicated we talkin’?” Rose asked with that little tongue-between-her-teeth smile that he couldn’t ever bring himself to say no to.

The Doctor grinned.

“Well,” he started, “The thing about time loops, that makes this argument fundamentally stupid and pointless, is that no two of them are ever the same. They’re basically time itself in a microcosm; sometimes, every single part of the sequence HAS to happen, or the loop collapses and the universe shits itself to death. Other times, there’s a string of fixed points, inbetween which you can change little things, as long as the main bits are all the same. So if you went back and…er, well, this works better if you’re a man, but if you went back and shagged your gran, and THEN shot your own grandfather, it wouldn’t really matter if you stopped for a pint on the way to off gramps, would it?”

“Well, that was…really, really charming,” Rose said, sarcasm thick on her words, “shagging me nan an’ all that. But hold on, are you saying I could-“

“No. Whatever you’re about to ask, no. But that’s why the loop debate is so stupid. Because there are basically no consistent rules for how a time loop SHOULD operate, aside from the Laws of Time itself. Generally, if you’re stuck in one, you’ll want to assume it’s an ‘Every event has happened before and will happen again” loop, but…”

He shrugged.

“Stupid argument anyway, talking of time loops. Very… _circular.”_ He said with a rather cheeky grin, prompting Rose to groan and headbutt him in the shoulder.

They stood there and listened to the debate, the sound of academics arguing the imagined theoreticals of a real-world concept the Doctor had lived and breathed. Rose listened to it with wide eyes, humming along to some salient points that sounded particularly melodious, and the Doctor continued to sigh and roll his eyes at the spectacle.

And yet.

And yet that argument, that stupid, fundamentally pointless argument. He hadn’t heard it being debated since the Time War. And he’d thought he never would again. 

Thinking of the war, though-

The Doctor frowned. The memories that swamped his mind, the fear and terror that flashed back and horrified him and stalked his nightmares-

None of it was bubbling up. Nothing was wrong, and yet something was very wrong about it.

And as he tried to think on it, the hum in his head, the song of his people, it grew louder and louder, smashing his thoughts into a wall.

Whatever. It- it didn’t matter. He’d come back to it later.

He looked at his- at Rose.

She was entranced by the dumb debate; the pointlessness of the wasted words lost to her behind the tones of a language she couldn’t speak. She reached down and took his hand, entwining their fingers together, and he smiled.

For just a moment, logic and history be damned, everything was okay. She was back beside him, and he had a second chance, to tell her what he was feeling, how he’d always felt. Even if he REALLY needed to ask Rose how the FUCK she’d managed to get back, and more importantly how the FUCK Gallifrey was back, and-

Rose squeezed his hand, looking up at him with a smile on her face, and his train of thought derailed itself into a wall.

He wanted to show her _everything._

He glanced ahead, looking for the library, for the dreaming tower, for something to indicate which house ran this particular city. Away from Donna, away from Rose, away from the debaters. Simply down the street.

And at the edge of an alleyway, leaning against the edge of a rounded spire, he saw something that sent ice-cold slush slamming through his veins.

Donna was leaning against a wall, arms folded, a scowl on her face. Looking straight into his eyes. it was unmistakeably her- red hair, the height, the stance. But she was listening to the debate, she wasn’t- how- there couldn’t be TWO Donnas-?

She was wearing a bulky black leather jacket. And blue jeans.

And her eyes were a piercing blue.

They stared straight into his soul.

He blinked.

She was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter this week because I have one in the backlog ready to post. Enjoy! Because tonight is gonna be hella crummy for me.
> 
> As an aside, I don't actually have a proper betareader, so if anyone's got some time spare and is willing to let me yell at them on Discord, hit me up? No pressure, though. 
> 
> Anyway, if you liked it, hated it, or think I'm shagging up everything, leave a comment! All the kind replies so far were fuel for this fire.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile...

Donna ran.

Back to the TARDIS. Back to safety. She needed- she needed-

She needed the Doctor. But that was impossible, because he was currently having his brains scooped out, and- she needed to save him, she couldn’t just leave him.

But what?! What the fuck was she supposed to DO!?

Donna slammed into the TARDIS doors, eyes streaming. What? What could she do!? What SHOULD she do?! He was trapped in that, that CELL, surrounded by dead people, and she- she didn’t know how to pull that helmet off, or if it was even safe-!

Donna collapsed on the jumpseat, mind racing. He was going to die. He was going to die if she didn’t do something. He was trapped and going to die.

She stared at the TARDIS console, wishing desperately she knew how to fly it. Fly it home. Get her grandad. Get him a set of tools. Get that helmet off-

But what if he hurt the Doctor?

Donna chuckled bitterly.

“Ohhhh, this is BRILLIANT. The Catch-22 to end all Catch-22’s. Need the Doctor to save the Doctor, but I can’t because the Doctor’s gotten his fucking HEAD STUCK IN AN ALIEN HELMET-!”

Donna rubbed her face, trying to calm her panicked thoughts. A plan. She needed a plan.

Okay. Okay. The helmet wasn’t strapped on or anything. It- something had stuck into his head, but maybe it was just on the scalp. Maybe. Maybe if she got some of his tools, maybe she could try to take it off.

Okay. Okay.

She looked at the Time Rotor, feeling the TARDIS’s concern singing through the air. The old girl was worried, and reached out with the telepathic equivalent of a hug.

“I need-“ Donna stood, drawing in a shaky breath, “I need his tool room. Where he keeps the red toolbox for- for working on you. Please? Please help me?”

There was a hum from the TARDIS, and the lights flickered on and off.

Donna strode down the corridor, towards her bedroom. There was a new room right across from it- the TARDIS had clearly moved the room- and the door was open.

Donna felt the ship’s worry pressing into the back of her mind.

And the worry only got louder when she stepped into the tool room and realized that the Doctor had an entire fucking fabrication shop in there.

And it was about the size of a warehouse.

And half the tools were utterly alien in design and function; only a small handful bore any resemblance to tools on earth. She faintly recognized a bandsaw, but there was a machine like a planer with symbols indicating volcanoes, and, and-

None of them were likely to be an “Evil Alien Brain-Scooper Remover 3000”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Donna moaned.

There was a bookshelf right next to the door, and Donna’s eyes fell on the red toolbox he always used when he was doing “critical maintenance” on the TARDIS. Which, as Donna had swiftly learned, was Doctor-speak for “I’m stressed so pardon me while I crawl under my console and play with my spanners for a bit.”

In many ways, he really was a regular old bloke.

She grabbed his toolbox, striding out into the hall, and noticing that the TARDIS had opened her bedroom door and turned on all the lights.

Dona raised an eyebrow.

“You want me to go in my room?” she asked, and the lights flickered on and off.

“Alright, if you say so. By the way, the lights thing…mite bit creepy. Dunno if you’ve ever been told that.”

A feeling like a headshake pressed against the back of her brain, and Donna sighed.

She stepped into her room, scanning everything for whatever it was the TARDIS wanted her to see.

Bed, dresser, closet, bathroom-

…Mirror?

Her eyes glanced off her own reflection, instead falling on the post-it note.

_The pink post-it note. _

“Jack,” Donna mumbled, running over and grabbing it.

She read over it again, and looked up.

There was a phone on the console. And the Doctor’s head was pretty well stuck.

“Alright, fine… Jack.” She muttered, “I’ll give you a call.”

Donna strode into the console room, determination written on her face. First, phone “Jack”. Second, try the spanners on the helmet. And if that plan fell through, find the captain’s chair on this wretched hospital ship and fly it into a sun or something.

She put the toolkit down on the grating by the door, pulling the phone off the hook and dialing with unsteady fingers, double-checking each digit against the crumpled post-it in her hands. It started ringing.

Come on. Come on. Pick up. Pick up.

“Y’ello?” a distinctly American voice said, “Captain Jack Harkness, at your service. How can we help you?”

“Jack?” Donna said, voice trembling, “You’re Jack?

“That I am. Who’m I speaking to, and more importantly, how did you get this number?”

“I’m- I’m Donna. I’m travelling with the Doctor, and- he’s trapped. I need help. I’m- you left a note, in my room, saying if the idiot ever got his head stuck that I should call you. Well, his head’s fucking stuck, and I don’t know what to do. So I’m calling you, and then I’m gonna go try to get him out, and then I don’t know what, but I’ll be out of ideas and we’ll both be trapped. Can you help me?”

There was a pause. Jack was talking to someone else, in a large room with an echo.

“Yeah, hang on a sec, Donna. Can you just stay on the line? We’re gonna try and trace the call. We’ll be there in a jiffy. How do you know…Him?” there was a pause, as Jack danced around saying the word “Doctor” for some reason.

Donna decided not to question it. He knew the Doctor, he was coming to help, who fucking cared about his word choice. Yanks, right?

“I- I met him when he accidentally abducted me on my wedding day. And then an alien ate my fiancé, but he was an arsehole who was just using me, so I guess that’s alright. And then I let him go, and then he came back, and now we’re travelling together, and- oh, fuck, please just help me.”

Someone in the background yelled “GOT IT!”

“Who was that?”

“We’ll be there in a sec. I’ll introduce you to the crew. We’ve got a lock, so you can hang up now.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Jack-“ Donna was on the verge of tears; relief rather than terror. Help was coming. Help was on its way.

She hung up the phone and grabbed the toolbox, stomping back towards the Doctor’s cell.

The door was still wedged open with the sonic screwdriver, and Donna swallowed as she looked inside.

He was lying on the floor, unlike all the others; the arms were gone. They’d slid back into the walls. They must have laid him down after they’d got him. Why he wasn’t on a slab, she wasn’t sure.

She checked the screen; it had winked to life.

NAME: [ERROR: UNTRANSLATABLE]

ALIAS: THE DOCTOR, JOHN SMITH.

AGE: [ERROR: OUT OF RANGE]

HOME: [ERROR: NATION: {GALLIFREY} DOES NOT EXIST]

DOCTOR: ALL STAFF OFFLINE. STAFF MEMBER WILL BE ASSIGNED SHORTLY. PLEASE REMAIN CALM.

PATIENT HAS BEEN IN TREATMENT FOR 00:20:34. 

ERROR: BED MOTOR NON-FUNCTIONAL. CONTACT MAINTENANCE IMMEDIATELY.

Donna shuddered. It was in his head. It had to be in his head to know all that.

But at least she knew why he was on the floor.

“Fuck, Doctor,” she muttered, pulling the door open and bracing for the evil arms to rip out of the walls and tear her head off.

Nothing happened.

She knelt down and picked up the sonic screwdriver, and then stopped and let the door go.

It didn’t immediately close.

Donna let out a sigh of relief.

And then listened.

The only sound was the Doctor’s breathing, plus the distant hum of the engines.

Donna took a deep breath and knelt down beside him, putting the toolbox alongside the cable; it snaked up and into a slot high on the wall.

He was breathing normally, and his fingers were twitching; Donna grabbed the hand on impulse.

“I know you can hear me in there,” She whispered, “I know you. You’ll be in there trying to fight your way out. Hold on, spaceman. We’ll get you out of there.”

Donna let his hand go, cracking open the toolbox and immediately regretting it.

The toolbox was not a selection of spanners and bolts. It unfolded into a huge array of hinged shelves and trays and racks, all on arms; it was so much bigger on the inside. Many of the arms folded down without any input from Donna, leaving just a selection of spanners poking out of the fucking thing.

She grabbed one at random, turning back to the helmet, a faint idea that she’d be able to loosen a bolt and the helmet would pop off.

And Donna immediately discovered that her meagre knowledge of mechanics and repairs was not up to this task. The metal helmet had no nuts, no screws, nothing that would give any purchase for her set of tools.

Alright, fine. Fuck it.

She grabbed the edge of the helmet with her bare hands and gave it a gentle tug.

The Doctor’s entire head went with it, gently rolling over to the left. He wasn’t responding, and the helmet wasn’t coming off that way.

Donna sucked in a breath between clenched teeth, and put the spanner back.

She closed up the toolbox, the folding arms retracting into who knew where, and Donna sat back and let her head thunk against the wall.

She turned his sonic screwdriver over in her hands. Waiting. Waiting for this mysterious Jack.

Donna immediately sat up. Her ears perked up- it was faint- but was that-

The wheezing, groaning sound of the TARDIS landing, and Donna got up and ran out of the cell, sonic screwdriver in hand. Looking down the hall, away from her TARDIS, it was just a long corridor with windows and cells, but there was a T-intersection, a hallway cutting through the middle of the ship-

Donna ran to it and looked down, and there, wheezing into existence in a too-small hallway, not ten meters away, was a TARDIS.

She blinked back tears of relief. He’d step out, she’d explain, he’d know exactly what was happening; this mysterious Jack would be there, and everything would be fine.

So when a leather-jacket-clad middle-aged man came strolling out, Donna’s face fell.

“Hello,” The man said, “Jack says you called us? Are you Donna?”

“Wh- WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!” Donna yelled, “You’re not the Doctor! You- I don’t know who you are! What are you doing with his TARDIS? Is he in there somewhere?!”

She started frantically turning the screwdriver over in her hands, clinging onto it like it was some kind of lifeline.

Leather Jacket stared at her, and then at the screwdriver.

“Uh, no. I’m the Doctor. This is _my _TARDIS.”

Donna sucked in a deep breath. Her heart hit the ground, slammed into it in freefall. Everything was wrong. Everything was wrong.

“No, you’re not. You can’t be because I’m travelling with _the Doctor_, and I’m pretty sure I’d remember if he had- if he had ears big enough to get satellite reception!”

He quirked an eyebrow.

The “Doctor” stomped over to her in his big boots, ignoring her spluttering, and grabbed the sonic screwdriver from her hands. Twisted a knob on it. 

He grabbed her hand and pointed the screwdriver at it, and Donna watched with an open mouth as a small cut she’d gotten from falling on the grating just…vanished.

Her Doctor had done that same trick as well, babbling the whole while about dermal regeneration and abrasions and who knew what else.

This bloke just stared her dead in the eyes, not saying a word, until he’d finished. Then handed the sonic screwdriver back with a smug smile on his face.

“There. Happy?”

Donna nodded, eyes wide.

“Doc!” a familiar voice called out, and a second man emerged from the TARDIS.

“I assume that’s the Jack I was talking to?” Donna said weakly, taking in his appearance.

“Yeap. The one and only Jack Harkness. So, what happened, what’s the-“ Jack looked up at the ceiling, and his eyes went wide.

“Jack? What’s-“ the Doctor started, following his gaze up towards the ceiling.

“BACK IN THE TARDIS!” Jack screamed “NOW! NOW, NOW NOW-“ he dove in, apparently into someone, because Donna heard a female voice yelp and a distant THUD.

The Other Doctor shrugged and sauntered back in, and Donna jogged in after him.

The door shut behind them, the Doctor folded his arms and fixed Jack with a pointed stare.

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” he asked, “’Cause I was just about to say to Donna that we’re probably causing a bloody paradox, and-“

“Not the time. Not out there.” Jack straightened up, “We’re in the 51st century, aren’t we? Fuck, I thought those things were outlawed while I was still in middle school…”

“What things? What’s going on?” some blonde girl behind Jack with wide eyes was spluttering. Donna had a guess, but she kept it to herself.

Jack scratched his neck.

“Cognitive Scanners. They do a deep dive into your brain, scan for…stuff. God knows what these ones scan for. They were outlawed ten years before I hit the force, but some ships are still lurking around with them onboard, I guess.”

“Hang on, there’s things on this ship that have been…scanning my brain? And- the Doctor’s-!?” Donna spluttered.

“I’m afraid so.” Jack groaned, “Okay, Doc, I know this is usually your show, but everyone follow me to the kitchen. And for God’s sake, I don’t wanna hear any laughing. You wanna keep your brain safe, you listen to me. Got it?”

There was a seriousness in Jack’s demeanour, a sudden flash of the Time Agent he’d been trained as. The small crowd followed him to the galley, all exchanging looks.

“Are you Donna?” the young woman asked her as they walked, “I’m Rose.”

Donna’s eyes went wide. She looked between the Other Doctor and this young woman, mind reeling.

This was Rose.

Oh, _joy._

“Yeah. M’ Donna.” She said, unsure what to say or do. Could she even cause a paradox by telling Rose that HER Doctor had lost her, or-

Fuck, this was headache-worthy.

All thought of telling Rose the bad news about the future flew out the window when they stepped into the galley and found Jack frantically tearing massive sheets of tinfoil from rolls.

“…Jack,” the Doctor groaned, “Have you gone PROPERLY mad?”

“No,” Jack growled, “And if you wanna keep your brain to yourself, you’ll come here and you’ll let me put a tinfoil hat on you.”

At this point, both Rose and Donna burst out laughing.

“I’m being serious,” Jack growled, “The scanners are on a frequency that- look, you can either wear an all-metal bike helmet, or a tinfoil hat. It’s this or nothing. And until we know what they’re scanning for, we gotta be prepared.”

“Gotta use protection, eh Jack?” Rose quipped, and his eyes lit up.

“Yeah, Rosie. Exactly like that. Now. Donna, right? C’mere. You first.”

* * *

“This,” the Doctor muttered as he stepped into the hallway, “Is without hyperbole, one of the stupidest things I’ve ever worn.”

“Jack, these things are awful. All scratchy and- OW! My hair keeps getting caught-“ Rose was a bit distracted by the fact that the Doctor, of all people, was wearing a black wool beanie with bits of tinfoil poking out the bottom. Not that she was any better; the beanies had been a snap decision by the Doctor, to “preserve dignity and keep these stupid tinfoil hats from falling off.”

“You’ll thank me later,” Jack stepped out after them, “Trust me, it’s this or let them go through your brain until they find whatever they’re looking for.”

Donna stepped out last, adjusting her beanie. “I don’t like hats. And why’ve you got four beanies with team logos on them?”

“Went to the Stanley Cup final in 2004. Had a bunch of hats on sale in a bundle the day after, for cheap. It was cold, so I snapped them up.” The Doctor gestured for Donna to lead them to wherever they were supposed to go.

She led the small group up the hallway and around the corner, back towards the cell.

Rose gasped when she saw the skeletons, and Donna just mumbled “I know.”

They walked to the only open door. Donna strode inside without hesitation, crouching down next to her Doctor.

The other Doctor froze at the door, Rose and Jack somewhere behind him. All three of them stared at the man on the floor.

“That- is that the Doctor?” Rose whispered, “He- he looks completely different! Donna, are you-“

“Oh, he’s me, alright,” the Doctor replied, “Rose, Jack, I’ll…I’ll explain later.”

“You’d better…” Rose muttered.

The Doctor in leather stood in the doorway for another few moments, waffling.

He turned to the terminal, running his sonic screwdriver over it, and muttering something about how it wasn't connected. Then went back to standing in the doorway. 

“Well?” Donna said, “I can’t get it off myself.”

“This isn’t right,” he said, uncomfortably, “I… shouldn’t be here. I’ll cause a paradox.”

“Well, if the universe hasn’t deleted itself yet, then we haven’t caused a bloody paradox!” Donna snapped, “Now if you don’t mind, I didn’t call you all out here for a new hat and an argument!”

The Doctor just stared at her. Blue eyes that seemed strangely…tired.

He walked over to his future self, slowly tracing over his body with his eyes.

Leather-Doctor knelt down by his future self’s head, tracing over the helmet with his fingertips. Examining it.

“Pinstripes and trainers, and my cologne,” the Doctor muttered, “And can’t shave worth half a damn. What, does he gel his hair, as well?”

“Yes, actually- now’s not the time!” Donna protested, “Look, we need to get that helmet off. Can you remove it?”

The other Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and started to scan the helmet.

“Well?” Donna asked impatiently, “Can you take it off?”

He examined the screwdriver, taking in whatever readings it was giving him, and nodded.

“Oh, yeah, easy. I could take it off right now, in fact. Two seconds, job done.” he'd gone very pale indeed, his voice a forced calm.

“Well?” Donna was on the border of yelling, now, “Do it! Take it off! What are you waiting for?!” she gestured frantically at the helmet as though that would speed elephant-ears up.

The Doctor turned to look at her, face completely impassive.

“This is a 51st century neural interface. Designed, primarily, for humans. Not Time Lords. And it’s very, very poorly done, as these things go. He’s basically got half his mind pulled into the computer, which is the stupidest way of doing it. So, because he’s not a human, if I pull that helmet off right now, he’ll be **braindead.** Forever. That what you want, miss Donna?”

The Doctor’s voice was utterly devoid of emotion.

Donna clapped a hand over her mouth, and everyone in the hallway went silent.

“Jack,” the Doctor said flatly, “Do you still have your gun?”

“Wh- yes? Why?”

“C’mere.”

Jack elbowed his way into the room.

His Doctor crouched down and tapped a finger on his future self’s chest, right on the pectorals. Left breast, right breast.

“Two shots. Bang, bang. Understood?”

Everyone had gone very quiet indeed.

“Understood.” Jack was staring with wide, disturbed eyes.

“Is- is there any way to take it off? To get him back?” Donna’s voice was cracking.

The Doctor stood, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“If he wakes up,” he said, “Starts crawling back toward consciousness, maybe. If his eyes are open and focused, it should be safe. Even if he’s still partly in…wherever he’s in.”

“Can’t you wake him up?” Rose interjected, “Telepathy, right? He’s right there. Go into his head and…pull him out.”

The Doctor considered this idea, scratching his neck.

“I’d really rather not,” he said, “that’s my future. HE is my future. If I go rummaging around in his head, I’d get knowledge I’m not supposed to have. I’m already going to have to erase all of this from you two, and myself, and that’s assuming we can even wake him up in the first place.”

“So, what…what are we supposed to do?” Rose asked, looking at the Doctor expectantly.

“I…don’t know.” He said flatly.

“I have a suggestion.” Jack cut in, “How about- Donna and I go off and try to find the mainframe? Since you can’t wake him up from the terminal outside, there’s probably a computer controlling whatever simulation he’s in. We might even figure out why this ship’s full of corpses.”

“Mmm… not a bad plan,” the Doctor conceded, looking at Rose. “Why you two?”

“So you two can stay here and look after future-you. And ‘cause I have an idea to wake him up, and I wanna run it by someone who knows this guy better than us three.” Jack gestured at Pinstripes as he said that.

“Care to share with the class, Jack?” the Doctor asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah. C’mon Donna. Shall we explore?”

Donna looked up and down at this other bloke, then back at her Doctor.

She met the other Doctor’s eyes, and pointed at her Time Lord.

“You,” she said, “Take care of him. And if I get back and he’s a vegetable, there will be HELL. TO. PAY. _Am I clear?”_

The Doctor put his hands up. “Yes, yes, I’ll do my best. I’m not gonna take it off unless we start seeing signs of life.”

“Alright, good.”

Donna turned to Jack and gestured for him to lead on, and the two of them walked down the hallway.

As they stepped away the Doctor on the floor tensed up.

“What…” Rose murmured.

They watched as the placid smile contorted into an expression of pain. Both hands clenched, nails digging into the smooth tiled floor.

A wordless growl escaped him, and then-

He relaxed.

“What was that?!” Rose looked at her Doctor, fear and confusion writ large on her face.

“I don’t know,” the Doctor replied, “but I have a funny feeling that wherever he is, it’s not as nice as you might think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The update schedule for this fic is every Friday, and failing that, the Monday after the weekend. If, and only if, I have another chapter fully written and in the backlog, I'll post another chapter a bit earlier than that. But every Friday, look forward to more fic. I'm trying out this whole schedule thing, we'll see how it goes. 
> 
> Anyway. Liked it? Hated it? Leave a comment. Let me know your thoughts! Fanfic fuel, that shit is. Everyone who commented so far is keeping this fic alive, so thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile... 
> 
> Ten tries to figure some stuff out.

“Now THIS,” the Doctor announced, breezing into the lobby of the gleaming silver spire, “Is a library, Donna.”

The lobby of the building was vast, a wide circular area lit with natural light. Donna and Rose were wide-eyed; huge windows stretched from the ground floor all the way along the length of the spire, light from the twin suns pouring inside. When they looked up, each floor had a circular hole in it, a crescent whose tips touched the wall of glass. It looked like an endless row of nested circles stretching up far higher than the building outside would suggest. Opposite the windows was a gleaming silver elevator track, smooth and pointed at both ends. Rich red carpets inscribed with golden lettering covered the floor, circles within circles, laid atop rich red marble. The entryway was flanked by carved marble columns, with banners draping from their crowns. The golden writing was everywhere, on the endless bookcases, on each floor, and on the long coral pedestal a few steps ahead, where the librarian’s desk would have been on earth.

“Now you may notice that this building,” The Doctor said, spinning around with his arms in the air, gesturing wildly, “is bigger on the inside. And guess what? We’ve just teleported. Welcome to the Grand Library!” He beamed at them, eyes sparkling.

“So, there’s just one big library for your entire planet?” Donna suggested, looking around at the silver elevator climbing up the central column to the higher floors.

“Nope!” the Doctor said, popping the P, “There’s lots of smaller ones of course, here and there- the Academy’s got its own, after all- but this is the big one, the main one. This is our central repository.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll pretend like that was an explanation. If this is a library, where’s the librarian? All’s I see is a big stone bench with some handprints in it.” Donna folded her arms and stared at the Doctor expectantly.

The Doctor gestured towards the smooth stone slab. It had depressions for hands to be placed, and he laid one of his hands in the indentation and closed his eyes. Donna stared at him.

“That’s not an answer.” She said, “now will you PLEASE explain what that’s all for?”

“Uh-“ Rose pointed at something floating towards them. The Doctor removed his hand from the slab and smiled as it floated closer.

It was vaguely humanoid, or at least the top half was; two arms, and it carried in its hands a book. It floated off the ground silently, a silver spire projecting from the underside; and along its body it wore a simple red robe that draped down the arms, with tails down the back. A blank head completed the odd look, with a soft blue glow from behind the faceplate.

It drifted over and handed the Doctor the book, bowing slightly and floating away.

“Alright, what the hell was that?” Donna gestured at it, “Anything else, Doctor? Can I get it to mix me a drink while it’s around?”

“Yep. If you want. Place your hand on the slab and think about what you’d like.” He gestured at it, cracking open the book and licking his thumb to flick to a page.

“Books.” Rose said, sidling up to him, “Why books? Still? You’ve got all this stuff, all these buildings, and…you’ve still got paper books.”

The Doctor put an arm around her, closing his book with a snap, and smiled.

“Everyone loves books,” he replied, “They smell nice. They feel nice. They’ve got permanence and staying power. And if you’re going to record the universe and all of history across all of time and space, this is a lot more comfortable than shoving it all in a computer. Buuuuut…” he grinned cheekily and shoved the book into Rose’s hands, “if you want to see the computer, it’s upstairs.”

All three of them looked up to the upper reaches of the tower, watching as the gleaming silver elevator descended speedily towards them. The Doctor tipped his head in the direction of the elevator, holding onto his book still.

“Shall we?”

Rose took his other hand and smiled at him, letting him lead her into the elevator. The Doctor looked back and caught Donna’s eyes, jerking his head at the doors; there was no way in hell he was going to let his best mate miss THIS.

The ride to the top was silent and smooth, a far cry from the rumbly boxes his human companions were used to. Despite the elevator having an opaque silver exterior, the walls inside were see-through, letting the passengers take in the view of the city as they rode to the very top of the spire.

The Doctor glanced at his book again, cracking it open and feeling the paper under his thumb.

Skimmed the page.

Now he was back on Gallifrey and had access to the Grand Library again, he could begin to do a bit of reading. Rose was back. Rose was back, and Rose was with him, and if her appearance was any indication, time had passed for his Wolf on the other side of the void. And now she was here with him, and…and…

There was information in the Grand Library on everything in the universe, almost. New things trickled in all the time, catalogued by his peers, double-and-triple-checked, and written into books; all across time and space, everything was changing and unfolding.

He clutched the book in his hand even tighter.

He had Rose back.

He had a second chance.

Like a fool, he’d never told her. Never let her know. Assumed that he’d have more time, always more time, and then time just-

Ran out.

Rose jerked her hand away from his, looking up at him in concern; it took the Doctor a moment to realize he’d been clenching his hands into fists. And had probably been crushing her fingers.

“Sorry, sorry- mind wandering. Off in the weeds.” he mumbled.

“Yeah, well, would appreciate if you didn’t try to break my fingers while you were there,” Rose was giving him some major side-eye.

“I think he’s going a bit senile in his old age, don’t you, Rose?” Donna elbowed the Doctor, “Spacing out, not knowing his own home planet…”

“Gonna have to put him in a home before long,” Rose giggled, still shaking out her hand.

“Oi! I will have you know I’m in the prime of my life!” the Doctor protested, “I’ve got millennia ahead of me, my brain is in perfect shape-“

“And yet you’ve completely forgotten to push the button to pick a floor,” Donna said, gesturing at the selection of buttons on the wall of the elevator, “And you know we can’t read that swirly stuff.”

“Oh.” The Doctor was momentarily glad he could reroute the blood flow in his body, because boy oh boy did he want to blush with embarrassment.

He jabbed the topmost button, separate from the rest, and tucked his book in his pocket.

“So what, would we have just gone up and up forever?” Rose mused.

“Yep. Infinite library, don’t you know? Actually, I say infinite…most libraries on Gallifrey connect to the same library, which is this one. Dunno what they do with the actual _space_ in the building, fill it with gardens or cotton wool or something.”

“I thought you were supposed to be our expert tour guide!”

“I am! Do YOU know everything about Thailand? You’re from Earth, surely you must do!”

“...Point taken.” Donna folded her arms and harrumphed.

The elevator stopped with a “Ding” that was decidedly anachronistic, and Rose giggled; that sound, the sound of her laughter, was like a balm to his aching hearts.

They were in a long corridor, flanked by dozens of rooms with closed doors. The Doctor put a finger to his lips and tiptoed down the hall, finding one that had the OPEN symbol glowing above the handle.

He pushed the door open and lead them into a small circular room with a single pedestal in the middle, with space for a hand.

Once the door was shut behind him, he rubbed his hands together.

“A dreaming room! I don’t even REMEMBER the last time I had to use one of these, but I’m pretty sure I was still failing my Trans-Dimensional Poetry class at the time. Too many late nights with the Corsair and waaaaay too many hits on the bong…”

“Alright, spaceman, I understood about two words of that, and they were “poetry” and “bong”. What’s a dreaming room and why’ve you dragged us up here?”

The Doctor was hopping on the balls of his feet, nearly vibrating with excitement.

“Humans, you’re not telepathic,” he started, “Me, my people? The Time Lords? We are. Sort of. And when you’ve got a telepathic species, there’s always…or usually, at least… a sort of collective hivemind, something unconscious that stirs in the back of your brain. Hook that up to a computer that keeps all the planet’s knowledge as a backup, cross-collaborate with the digitized minds of your long-dead ancestors, also holed up in the same computer, and hey presto! You’ve got yourself a database on steroids. And…I can show you some amazing things from here.”

“So does it just download the information into your brain, or…?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, no, no. Here, I’ll just show you.” He strode over to the pedestal, closing his eyes and placing his hand on the imprint.

He reached out with his mind, seeking the collective consciousness he knew he’d find. He wanted to show Rose and Donna the future of their galaxy- the Milky Way would collide with the Andromeda galaxy millions of years after they were born, and the Time Lords had watched and would watch and are watching it happen.

He reached out to the collective, calling for them, using the song in the back of his mind as a guidepost, as an anchor, and he unfurled himself to try and catch…

His fingers brushed the edge of the collective mind, and he plunged past the surface, expecting the unforgettable sensation of falling into an endless black ocean of glowing stars, and-

Nothing. Nothing. The surface hum vanished as he plunged beneath the waves. No stars. No voices. Nothing. There was nothing below the surface. _It was empty. _

The Doctor opened his eyes and blinked a few times in confusion. The lights in the room had dimmed, but something wasn’t right.

“I- it’s not working.” He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the pedestal. Pulled out his sonic screwdriver and ran it over the device before him.

“Is it broken?” Rose asked, “It could just be malfunctioning.”

“Ooooh, I don’t know about that. These things don’t “Just” malfunction. S’a living computer, we’re all subconsciously woven into the network. The mainframe may go down, but as long as there’s two Time Lords left in the universe, it _should_ work.” And the screwdriver didn’t lie, unless that was broken too. The pedestal was working perfectly fine.

So. That left a few possibilities for what was broken: the pedestal AND his sonic, his brain, or the collective consciousness.

That last went straight in the bin.

There was no way the collective mind could be broken. He was HERE, on Gallifrey, he’d SEEN other Time Lords; there was simply no way. It was his sonic or it was his head. Had to be.

The Doctor took Rose’s hand as they left, shaking his head.

They headed for the elevator, and he wasn’t really listening to what Rose and Donna were saying, too lost in his own thoughts. How? How could it be broken, how?

He walked up to the closed doors of the shiny silver elevator, and for a fraction of a second-

Reflected in the silver metal, standing behind their little group of three.

Donna- a SECOND Donna- in a black leather jacket and jeans. Arms folded. Scowling.

Blue eyes piercing even in her reflection.

The Doctor whipped around to look behind them-

Nothing. There was nobody behind them.

And when he turned around to look at his reflection again-

She was gone.

“Doctor? Something wrong?” Rose gave his hand a little squeeze as they stepped into the elevator, and the Doctor blinked a few times.

“I- Rose, I’m not sure.” He said, jabbing the button for the ground floor.

They descended in silence, the Doctor lost in thought. Rose’s hand was warm against his, and he interlaced their fingers, looking down at her with a soft smile.

She gave him that tongue-touched grin that never failed to make his hearts do a little flip. A feeling of warmth and rightness spread in his chest; who gave a rat’s ass if the pedestal was broken and his sonic was lying. Who cared. Rose was here, Rose was BACK, and he had a second chance, a second chance to let her know how he felt about her, and-

A second chance to try again.

Donna’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket, interrupting the quiet of the elevator.

“Hello?” she said, holding it to her ear, “Gramps! Hi! Yeah, listen, is it all set up?... Typical… Right, brilliant. We’ll be there…probably a minute after you hang up, to be honest. Yeah, he’s here. Yeah. An’ he’s got a plus-one, so you might wanna get the extra garden chair. Yeah, I’ll see you then. Bye!”

And she hung up, elbowing the Doctor as the elevator hit the ground floor.

“Alright, spaceman, we’re heading back to the TARDIS. Some people on Earth want to see you.”

The elevator DINGED again, and the Doctor stepped out, already bristling with questions. Donna held up a hand to cut him off.

“Ah-ah-ah. Don’t wanna hear it. I tell you the when and the where. It’s a surprise. Now, let’s get going!”

“Actually, hold on a sec,” he said, turning away from the doors and heading towards the smooth stone pedestal. He let go of Rose’s hand and laid it on the indentation.

“I need one more book first. Won’t take a minute.”

Donna huffed, clearly trying to hurry him out the door.

A Librarian drone drifted by not a moment later, a much thinner leatherbound book clutched in its hands. The book was shiny and newly-made- a good sign. The Doctor took it, accepting the robot’s graceful bow, and slipping the second book in one of his vast pockets.

“What’s that, then?” Rose asked, “Something special?”

The Doctor nodded curtly, his face softening as he took her hand again and wove their fingers together.

“You two are cute together, just wanted to say.” Donna said, “Anyway, can we get a move on?”

The Doctor nodded, taking a few steps across the sumptuous lobby, and stopping by the door.

Right in front of the entrance were the signs of a scuffle. Several orblike projections had come out of their cradles above the entryway, and there were some black laser blast marks on the floor. A janitor drone was vacuuming up a small pile of blue dust off the marble tiling. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, looking at the Librarian who was standing there attentively.

“What’s all this, then?” he said, gesturing with his book at the pile of dust, “Didn’t know there were disintegrators in the Grand Library.”

The Librarian responded in an even cadence, the chiming tones of the Doctor’s musical language. He listened intently and raised an eyebrow.

“A… hostile?” he replied, “…How, exactly? How did they get here?”

More of the lilting music.

“…What d’ya mean, _you don’t know?”_

Chimes and bells.

“Well, that’s…comforting. What…er…what were they, do you think?”

The Doctor stared at the drone like it had just started cussing him out.

**“What…?”** he echoed, trying to process what he’d just heard.

“What? What’s happening?” Rose asked, giving his hand a squeeze, “What’s he saying?”

“It’s saying that…there was a hostile intruder who got into the library, so they disintegrated him and they’re cleaning up the mess…and he’s also saying that said intruder was…a Tauran?” the Doctor stared at the pile of dust on the floor, “That can’t be right…”

“An’ what’s a “Tauran”, then?” Donna asked, folding her arms, “Not all of us are from space, y’know.”

“…Taurans, they’re…they’re an intelligent race like humans. Humanity fights a silly war with them in the fifty-first century, and whoever wins doesn’t really matter. You both declare peace, and when everyone's had a century to cool off, you forge an alliance that lasts ‘till the universe dies.” The Doctor said, bafflement on his every word, “They’re a peaceful species, and I don’t think they’d ever even _heard_ of the Time Lords…So, what…?”

“You don’t know either, then?” Rose asked, giving his hand another squeeze.

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath.

“Rose, imagine for a minute that you walked into a library back home, to find a Martian with a machete being arrested, and screaming something about how England belongs to Mars, and you’ll have some idea of how I’m feeling right about now. None of this makes ANY sense.”

“Well, maybe we should let someone else figure it out for once,” Donna prodded, “There’s people on Earth expecting us, so let’s get a move on, hey?”

“Time machine, Donna, we can be on time and take a century to-“

“Yeah, but I’d rather not die of old age first. Come on, Doctor!” she said, shoving him past the dust pile and onto the street.

The Doctor wanted very badly to ask Donna what the hell was going on and why she wasn’t letting him take a minute to talk and ask, but then Rose squeezed his hand and he was being shoved back towards his TARDIS and-

Fuck it.

Rose squeezed his hand and leaned against him, and the Doctor had to stomp on a strong urge to just scoop her up and carry her bridal-style all the way back to his ship. She was here. She was back. Gallifrey was here. Gallifrey was back. The Song of Time was in his head, his people forgave him, and there was a surprise waiting for him on Earth.

Fuck it all. None of it mattered. Donna was right. Someone else could sort it out for once.

They walked back through the ocean of red grass, out of the town, and towards the TARDIS. Rose never let go of his hand, and the three of them talked and laughed the entire way.

No running.

No fear.

Just…

The Doctor smiled at Rose. His precious human.

She’d saved him. And she was saving him again, now. She was back, she was in his arms, and he was going to tell her straight away.

His ship loomed in the distance, and before long, his friend and his- his Rose, were stepping through the doors. The Doctor had one foot inside, and then he paused.

He spared one last glance back at Gallifrey, at the ocean of red grass he’d played in as a child. And in the distance-

Donna. The one in leather. Again. And she was snarling at him, one hand in her pocket, holding up-

A sonic screwdriver?

She tapped it against the side of her head a few times, scowl deepening.

The Doctor pulled his own screwdriver out of his pocket and looked at it, then back up at Donna-

She was gone.

_“Who are you?”_ the Doctor whispered, eyes narrowing. He turned into his ship and slammed the door behind him, shaking his head to put the other-Donna out of his mind.

Rose was sitting on the jumpseat expectantly, and Donna was fiddling with her phone.

“Alright, spaceman,” she said, “Outside my house, and here’s the date and time. Think you can manage that?”

The Doctor shoved all thoughts of Taurans and collective minds and ghost Donnas out of his head. _Could he fly his ship?_ Was she seriously challenging him on THAT?!

“Oh, I can manage that alright!” he cackled, excitement blazing up his spine like lightning. The Doctor raced around his console and hammered in coordinates, set various settings, and finally seized the warp lever and slammed it down with a huge grin on his face.

“ALLONS-Y!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want more fic? Want it sooner? Want it posted on Tuesday or Monday and not just on Friday? Leave a comment! Because this story is gonna get pretty fucking gnarly, pretty fucking quick. 
> 
> But seriously, I love all your feedback. let me know your thoughts! Anything you're confused by? Anything you're wondering about? let me know! 
> 
> Thanks to Kippysaurus for betaing this bit!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Donna do a little recon...

The corridors were lined with pipes on one side and locked cells on the other. Their footsteps echoed off the walls and ceiling, moving them deeper and deeper into the ship and away from the Doctor.

“Donna, right?” Jack said, grinning at her as they strolled down the empty, hollow corridors, “Met a few Donnas before. None of ‘em had hair like yours…and most of them had more than two arms-“

Donna held up a finger. This Captain Jack was easier to read than a children’s book, swaggering down the hall, leaning into her space, the pretty-boy-dashing-hero complex oozing off him in waves.

“Before you go any further,” she said “I’ll have you know that I already told MY spaceman to pound sand when he tried to put the moves on me. If you think I’m gonna give it up for the first cowboy that walks in here talking smooth, well. You obviously don’t know me.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Maybe if we got to know each other a little better, though-“

**“No.” **

Jack put his hands up in defeat, a gracious smile on his face. “Alright, I can respect that.”

Donna huffed, and they kept walking.

“…How’d the Doctor find a bloke like you, anyhow?” Donna asked after a pause, “Does he just pick up whoever’ll tolerate him, or…?”

“To be honest? I rescued Rose from falling to her death from a barrage balloon…and then he completely messed up the con I had going, and then I sort of…ended up travelling with them.”

Donna nodded, huffing out a sigh.

“Yeah, that sounds like my Doctor, alright.”

Jack chuckled, fiddling with the pistol on his hip and keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of trouble.

“Alright, cowboy,” Donna said after another pause, “You dragged me away from my Doctor to discuss some plan, and you didn’t want Coronation Street back there hearing it.”

“…Coronation Street…?” Jack said, raising an eyebrow, his face the picture of confusion.

Donna groaned.

“Fine, I’ll call him Manchester instead. That any better?”

“…Yeah, alright, Manchester works.” Jack said with a nod, making a mental note to ask Rose where Coronation Street was and what the Doctor had blown up on it.

“Anyway. Your plan, Jack?” Donna raised an eyebrow at him; she already tolerated the Doctor talking in manic circles, and he had the “I’m an alien and my brain is weird” card to play. Jack, so far as she could tell, was a human male, and therefore didn’t have that card. Not that she cared too much when the Doctor played it, because weird was still weird.

Jack rubbed his hands together.

“Right, so did you see Rose and the Doc back there?” he started, and Donna inwardly sighed.

“Yes, I did. Why?”

“Donna, I don’t know how much your Doc goes on about her, but the UST on that ship is friggin’ KILLING me,” Jack groaned, “The Doc’s clearly in love but he’s too busy being gruff and serious to pull his head out of his ass and say anything, and Rose is fine with just pretending he wants to be friends while pining right back. It’s so painfully obvious, and I’m guessing, based on the look on your face, that your Doc never did anything about it either?”

“I mean,” Donna started, “He was travelling with Rose for awhile. He’d said as much. An’ then he lost her, never really did say how. But…yeah. I don’t think he ever did work up the courage to say anything one way or another. Why, though? Why’s that matter?”

Jack rubbed his hands together, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Donna,” he said, “Your Doc is the future. My Doc is the past. He’s a fucking _Time Lord. _Change the past, he’ll notice.”

Donna’s eyes went wide, and she stopped in her tracks, staring at Jack.

“Oh,” she said, “Oh, that’s- that’s actually brilliant. I- So, we get Leather Fetish back there to spit it out, and…?”

“And it’ll change the past,” Jack said gleefully, “And YOUR Doc, who is the future, will notice no matter where he is, because he’s a Time Lord and he notices that kinda shit. Or at least, that’s what MY Doc said…Rose and him did something stupid involving saving her dad from a car accident, so I dunno, but like…it might just work.”

“So what do we do about it?” Donna asked, noticing a T-intersection up ahead, “We just, get them to split up and talk to them separately, or…?”

“That’s the genius of it,” Jack said, “I know for a fact that when we find the mainframe, the Doc will wanna go in and do his thing on it. So you go with him while he does that, give him a little pep-talk, maybe share some future knowledge. I’ll go stay with Rose, and we get these two to spit it out, and change the past, to change the future, to get YOUR Doctor to wake up!”

Donna considered this.

“That’s completely mad,” she said, “That’s rat-fuck insanity. But it beats the hell out of sitting around waiting for my Doctor to wake himself up. Why the fuck not. Let’s do it.”

“That’s the spirit!” Jack cheered, “We have got this in the BAG.”

As they kept walking, the hallway split into another T-intersection; this one didn’t have any cells along it, instead being lit from overhead by large floodlights.

“I think I see an elevator down there,” Jack said, “The bridge will probably be on a higher floor, but I don’t know the layout of this place. With our luck we’ll end up on the sun deck without space suits.”

Donna rolled her eyes and followed him down the hall, eyes falling on one of those scanners overhead.

“Jack,” she said, examining the white cylinder in its cradle, “how DID you know what those things were?”

He stopped walking and shrugged.

“I’ve seen ‘em before on a couple of ships, deactivated,” he replied, “Wait, did I tell you when I was from- I didn’t, did I? Damn. I’m from the 51st century myself. I was born…”

Jack checked his watch, “…Rats, my year counter’s broken. Well, I’m from this century, at least.”

Donna raised both her eyebrows.

“Great. Leave the spaceman alone and he finds MORE spacemen. What, is there an even earlier Doctor with a spaceship full of future cowboys?”

Jack shrugged. “Hey, not my fault that the Doc likes 21st century Earth chicks. Actually, if you’re here, I think it officially qualifies as a crav-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll slap you. We’re not like that. We’re mates. End of story.” Donna said sternly.

Jack shrugged and they kept walking towards the elevators.

There was another pause, as Donna caught sight of another scanner, and the second part of her question popped into her head.

“So, hold on,” Donna started, “You’re from this century, right? Maybe you’ll actually know what this ship is for, then. The Doctor didn’t have the foggiest- he thought it was a hospital ship or something. Why a hospital ship would need to scoop your brains out, I don’t know, but-“

“He’s not wrong. This IS a hospital ship. Just a different sort than what you might be used to. It’s for injuries to the mind.” Jack said, stopping by the elevator doors. Mercifully, there was a floor list posted on the other side. They were currently on Deck 3- Inpatient Treatment. The bridge was on Deck 1.

Donna quirked an eyebrow. “Brain injuries?”

“Don’t think so. I mean, it looks like it’s set up to treat a lot of people all coming down with the same mental condition, and on this scale, that condition is probably PTSD.”

Donna folded her arms. “Why would they spend all this time and money for a ship for PTSD victims? It doesn’t make sense-“

“Look,” Jack started, his face deadly serious, “I get that in the 21st century, mental illness is barely worth considering when you’re talking about health. But when I was a kid, it was the only thing that your local clinic would even take seriously. Where I grew up, you could lose a leg and be walking out of the clinic the same day with a shiny new prosthetic that was almost better than the one you’d lost. A guy walks in with bad PTSD from a shuttle crash, they’ll have him physically back to normal in no time flat. But mental illness…”

Jack shook his head and jabbed the button to take them “up.”

“It’s as serious as bullet wounds. You can’t just replace a broken brain- that’s all you are. That’s WHO you are. Mental illness is really, really serious.”

Donna nodded, trying her best to ignore how loudly the elevator rattled as it descended towards them.

“I get that,” Donna replied, “But…why the helmets? What’s the point of all this? I don’t- this isn’t pills and counselling, this is some bizarre mockery of, of…” she flapped her hands, letting them rest at her sides.

Jack nodded sagely.

“The idea is to put the patient in a place where they’ll be calm and mentally stabilize them, I think. It’s…it fell out of fashion by the time I was doing my Time Agent training. But if you put the patient into a virtual world and hook a computer to their brain, you can do all kinds of stuff. Chief among them is mood regulation.”

Donna’s expression of horror told Jack all he needed to know with regards to her thoughts on that matter.

“Look, it’s- it was a phase. Like the brain scanners-“

“You’re saying that they’ve got the Doctor hooked up to a machine that can MESS WITH HIS EMOTIONS?!” Donna roared, “HE’S OFF IN GOD KNOWS WHERE DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT AND THE MACHINE CAN CONTROL HIS FEELINGS?!”

“I mean, I don’t- I’m- Look,” Jack said, putting his hands up in defeat, “I don’t know, okay? I’m not a doctor. Or a Doctor, capital D. But- It’s just what I’ve heard. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he’s just off rolling around in a sunny field with a beautiful babe on each arm or something-“

Donna huffed, a scowl on her face.

“We’ve got to get him out of there,” She muttered.

“Yeah,” Jack replied, eyes downcast.

They both listened to the rumbling of the elevator, until finally it stopped with a jerk and opened the door.

“Okay, the bridge, the bridge… I don’t know where it’ll be, but-“ Jack was yammering, spitting off military jargon about quadrants and searches as he got himself into position for some kind of operation that he was scripting on the fly in his head. Donna, meanwhile, just tapped him on the shoulder and gestured at a wall down the corridor with a smug smirk on her lips.

BRIDGE, it said in red letters, with an arrow pointing in the correct direction.

“Well,” Jack said in a huff, “I mean, I would have noticed that EVENTUALLY-“

Donna’s laughter echoed down the corridors of the empty ship.

* * *

Things swiftly stopped being funny as they got closer to the bridge.

The top floor was all pipes and wires and cable conduits, but instead of glass doors, there were opaque ones with handles. Instead of terminals, each door simply had projectors for a holographic nameplate.

“Crew Quarters,” Jack said quietly.

Some of the doors were closed.

Some weren’t.

They walked up to one of the doors, which had been wrenched off its hinges at some point; it was hanging crookedly, the screws affixing it to the wall pulled out and clinging on by a thread.

On the floor around the door were dried brown stains, so ancient that they were lifting and cracking. Like old paint left in the sun for too many years.

Blood.

Donna clapped her hands over her mouth, and they crept around to find the crew member’s cabin utterly trashed. There was a desk and a bed, and every other object had been smashed and thrown on the floor. Blood smeared the walls, handprints dried and faded, and the chair was tossed in the corner. A thin layer of dust covered everything, including the crumpled lanyard in the corner.

On the floor was a human skeleton in tattered clothing. Their skull was caved in.

“Oh my god,” Donna whispered, “Oh my GOD…”

Jack pulled her in for a hug and stared at the scene before them with cold horror.

“We need to keep going,” he whispered.

“What happened?!” Donna said, sounding slightly hysterical, “Why- why’s he dead?! Who did this?!”

Jack released her, stepping into the room and examining one of the bloody handprints on the wall.

Five fingers.

Human.

And they’d smeared the blood all down the walls, like they just rested their hand there and forgot about it.

“I don’t know.” Jack said, pulling Donna back out into the corridor, “But the sooner we find the bridge, the sooner we can get out of this horrible fucking place.”

He pulled her away, standing between Donna and the rows of doors. Keeping a firm hand on her shoulder.

She’d seen horrors, of that he had no doubt. Travelling with the Doctor, it was inevitable. But this…this was a different kind of horror.

Humans killing humans, with the barbarism of the apes they’d left behind.

A sharp left turn in the hallway ahead lead them down a hall with two sets of doors. One of them was closed tight and locked, with a glowing slot for a keycard; and the other was- was-

“Donna,” Jack said, turning her to face the bridge doors, “Don’t look.”

“Why not?” she said, voice quivering.

Jack stared at the bloody handprints on the double doors leading into the cafeteria. Took in the damage to the handles, the burn marks in the floor.

“I don’t want you to see this. That’s the cafeteria. I think-“ his voice cracked for a second, then was back to smooth and even, “I think there was a…struggle in there.” With that, Jack stepped into the cafeteria and into a world of long-forgotten carnage.

It was brightly-lit with white tile floors, and had clearly been the ship’s main hangout for the crew. Comfy booths, the smashed remnants of a jukebox, toppled vending machines. Tables and chairs overturned and formed into makeshift barricades. Skeletons, disarticulated and in pieces, littered the floor. Blood was everywhere.

And in the blood, the clear signs of…rubber treads?

Something with rubber treads had rolled in here, rolled through the blood, and left a trail that eventually spattered out by one of the table-barricades. Every chair had blood on the legs or the headrests, a fire axe was jammed into a table, and the bodies-

Jack looked back.

Donna hadn’t followed him. The doors had swung closed behind him.

Scattered around the room here and there, usually by the heads or necks of the long-dead, were keycards on lanyards. Jack gathered some of them, pulling them off the bodies methodically; he needed to get into the Bridge, and he didn’t have the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver.

How many people…?

Jack shook his head, walking out of the cafeteria, expecting Donna to be waiting patiently for him.

She wasn’t.

She had her Doctor’s sonic screwdriver out and was fiddling with the lock on the bridge, twiddling the knob on the base to set it and testing settings, largely at random.

“Donna,” Jack said, “Do you even know how to use that thing?”

“Sort of. I know the right setting for getting regular locks undone, 7.34, but-“

Donna sighed and straightened up. “If I keep at this, I’m gonna blow the lock or short it out or set something on fire. What’s… oh.”

Jack held up his two fistfuls of slightly bloodstained keycards, striding forwards and shoving a golden one into the glowing slot.

He pulled it out, and the red glow turned green.

The bridge door slid open, seals hissing as it did so.

Donna stepped into the bridge first, making a face. The air smelled stale, and it was dark in there.

The only illumination was a faint blue glow from the walls they couldn’t see, curving away from the door; the line of blue light was near to the floor, by the tiling. The only sound, besides their breathing and the distant rumbling of the engines, was a soft hum from all directions. A strange sort of hum, like something was running in the background even when all the terminals were switched off.

Banks of monitors and interfaces at waist height were arranged in rows; this was clearly a big ship if it needed so many. All the machines and terminals were powered off, and the lights only flicked on as they both stepped inside.

Jack walked over to one of the monitors, fiddling with it, trying to get some information from it.

“Nothing,” he muttered, “It’s got a password. Shit.”

The monitors flicked on, waking themselves from sleep as Donna walked by them. She looked around; discarded coffee cups, chairs knocked over. But no blood. No skeletons.

What had happened here?

“Well,” Jack said suddenly from some other monitor, “I got a map of the ship, if nothing else. Looks like the main medical mainframe is on deck 5…We’ll need the Doc to work this one out.”

“Can you print it out or something?” Donna asked, stopping by one of the monitors that remained stubbornly off. She fished the Sonic Screwdriver out of her pocket and started fiddling with it, trying out various settings and buzzing the blank monitor in front of her.

“Printouts? What century are we talkin’, here? This place look like it’s got a billion board feet of wood to chew up and shit out into shopping lists?” Jack quipped, “I do, however, have a data slate.” He pulled out a small metal bar and tapped it to the terminal he was using. A holographic slice of light projected from the bar, showing a glowing map of the ship.

Jack continued to mess with his map, and Donna continued to fiddle with her stubborn monitor, cycling through random screwdriver settings until she found the one that would make the computer wake up and turn into Windows XP. Preferably with the “Wake up my stupid alien” button already on-screen for ease of clicking.

That didn’t happen.

Instead, after applying another randomly-chosen setting, the computer in front of her sparked and buzzed, and Donna leaped back with a yelp.

“Dammit, Donna!” Jack yelled, “Cut that shit out before you deactivate the life support or something!”

“I- Yeah,” she said, stuffing the screwdriver into her pocket with the setting unchanged. She’d found the one to overload electronics, from the look of it. Donna stepped back from the smoking ruins of the computer and sighed deeply.

Jack busied himself with transferring the ship layout onto a second data slate, which without the holo-map extended looked like a grey steel bar. Donna grumbled, looking out the windshield and wishing she could be more helpful.

To make matters worse, there weren’t any papers anywhere in the bridge, at least none that Donna could see. With a sigh, she started rummaging in a drawer under someone’s monitor; maybe there might be something useful in there.

Nope. Just data sticks and gum.

The monitor had winked to life while she was standing there, and something caught her eye.

MOVEMENT DETECTED ON DECK 3.

PATIENT OUT OF CONTAINMENT.

ORDERLIES DISPATCHED. (0 ACTIVE, 12 ON STANDBY, 347 NOT RESPONDING)

Orderlies?

Donna opened her mouth to ask Jack what that might mean, when he cut her off.

“Alright, that’s two maps,” Jack said, “One of these will go to you and the Doc, and I’ll hold on to the other one while I’m with Rosie-“

His explanation was cut short by a sudden burst of tinny music.

Donna raised an eyebrow as Jack started scrambling around, slapping his pockets in a fumble for his phone.

_“Doctor, doctor, give me the news, I got a, bad case, of lovin’ youuuu-“ _The phone played again on a loop, and Donna couldn’t help the fit of giggles when she realized that Jack had set a custom ringtone. For the Doctor.

_“Bad Case Of Loving You?”_ Donna echoed, “What, did you set _“Kiss From A Rose”_ for her?”

“Yes. Shut up.” Jack growled, and then- “Doc! What’s the situation?”

He paused, and his eyes went wide.

“Oh, that’s…that’s really, really not good. Okay. We’ve got the maps, we’ll be down in…five or less.”

A pause.

“Right. We’re on our way.” Jack nodded at Donna and grabbed his fistful of decaying keycards and jerked his head at the door.

“Come on. Your Doc’s started screaming in his sleep. We gotta get out of here, quick.”

Donna nodded and ran out the bridge doors after him.

Behind her, the monitor started beeping. It showed a map of the ship, outlined in green.

Two red dots glowed to life on deck three, in one of the cells. Two more dots streaked away from the bridge, the monitor showing their progress.

And in the basement, on deck 5, twelve light blue dots bloomed into life.

And started to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? Did you hate it? Don't worry, all will be explained in due time....
> 
> This chapter and the next two have been giving me a lot of trouble as I try to straighten out their order. I think I'm happy with the current order, but we shall see. 
> 
> If you want more fic, leave a comment! Let me know your thoughts on the chapter, the story in general, and whatever else. I love reading feedback, makes me feel like I'm not just shouting into the void.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten's trying to put the pieces together. Rose isn't helping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a VERY non-explicit sex scene. It's barely described at all, but I figured a heads-up might be nice. If you've got an issue, it's between the two line breaks. There is some important detail in there, so I wouldn't skip it, but again: heads up.

“And we’ve landed!” the Doctor announced, beaming as his magnificent ship touched down. “Donna’s house, the twenty-first century, down to the minute!”

Rose groaned and extricated herself from where she’d fallen on the grating, and Donna was busy untangling herself from the railing around the console.

“Great,” Donna groaned, getting up and heading for the door. She turned back, expression serious, and jabbed a finger at the Doctor. “You! Stay put. I’m gonna check that you haven’t stuffed up the landing and we’re not on the dark side of Jupiter.”

“Well, actually, Jupiter’s not tidally locked to anything, so it doesn’t really HAVE a dark side, Mercury might be a better-“

“DON’T. MOVE.”

The Doctor put his hands up helplessly. “Alright, alright. I’ll stay here.”

Donna slammed the door behind herself, and before the Doctor could complain about this cruel and unfair treatment to Rose, she opened the door again.

“That’s my house and that’s Earth. Don’t move, again, I need to make sure you got the time right.”

And the door slammed behind her.

“Honestly!” the Doctor groused, folding his arms and leaning against his console, “What kind of pilot does she take me for?”

“Well,” Rose stood up and stretched her aching muscles, “need I remind you about the whole twelve hours-twelve months fiasco-“

“Yes, alright, alright!” he groaned, “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nnnnnope!”

Rose sidled up next to him and leaned into his side. The Doctor hummed; she was so warm. Humans were always so warm. He threw an arm around her, pulling her in close, and they stood for a moment, just…being. Staring at the door, feeling the hum of his ship all around them. Together.

“I missed this,” Rose whispered, “This ship, being with you.”

“Running for your life?”

Rose rolled her eyes and gently headbutted him.

“Yeah, even running for my life. Mooching around dad’s mansion gets old after awhile.”

The Doctor closed his eyes, letting his free hand play with a few strands of hair he’d pinned to her shoulder.

Rose closed her eyes and let him support her weight fully, and the Doctor, for the first time in a very long time, relaxed.

A niggling thought was prodding at the back of his mind, though, and he glanced over at the console. Within easy reach was a slot for his sonic screwdriver, and he pulled it out of his coat pocket, doing his best not to disturb Rose in the process.

Plugged it in, thankful for his long arms this regeneration, and hit a button to run a diagnostic.

Then went back to rubbing her arm.

Voices were swirling in the back of his mind, voices he’d used in lives long since passed. _Spit it out! Tell her! Tell her NOW! _

The Doctor gently prodded Rose, and she opened her eyes and looked up at him, with a little “hmmm?” noise.

“Rose, I…uh…I have…I have something I need…to tell you.” he said, biting the inside of his cheek, “And I really, I should have, I should have said it earlier, but it’s so…uhm-“

Rose was looking up at him, and he was turning a particular shade of vermillion, and the awkwardness was so thick you could spread it on toast, and-

Rose rolled his eyes, grabbed him by the tie, and yanked him in for a kiss. And once again, the Doctor’s brain blew every last fuse in the breaker box and shut off, which was unfortunate.

Because Donna chose that EXACT moment to walk in the door and start bitching him out. And Rose chose that EXACT moment to slip him a bit of tongue, which made every last blown fuse in his skull melt and then explode and then melt again.

“DOCTOR!” Donna snapped, hands on her hips, “Will the two of you quit playing tonsil hockey and LISTEN?! You’ve dropped us off a couple hours before Gramps even _made the call_, you great soppy idiot, so I want you two to stay RIGHT HERE and not move until I come get you, got it?”

“I, uh, what?” the Doctor was scrabbling around for every synapse he had spare, because Rose was still holding onto the end of his tie, and, um, and smiling at him in that sort of, her tongue, and um-

“I said-“

“Right. Yes. Stay here. Got it.” He spluttered, and Rose let go of his tie, and something beeped behind him, and Donna stepped out of the TARDIS, and-

Oh. The beeping.

He turned away from Rose, tapping a button on the console and looking at the holographic screen that popped up.

His Sonic Screwdriver was working perfectly. The diagnostic had checked everything, scanning and all, and it was in perfect shape.

Which meant that his scan of the pedestal itself was perfectly valid, and the machine was working correctly.

It was a little hard to care about that with Rose cuddling herself into his side, though, and he snatched the small device out of its slot and tucked it back into his pocket.

“So,” Rose said, looking up at him with something strange shining in her eyes, “We’ve got the place to ourselves for a little bit. Anything you want to do?”

The Doctor bit his lip. She was giving him a weird look and her tone was a bit odd…

“I need to check something in the medbay,” he said slowly, “and then…the library? Want to read for a bit?”

Rose chuckled and pulled away from him, taking his hand and pulling him down the hall.

“Okay. What d’ya need in the medbay?”

The Doctor swallowed. Lying to Rose, now…?

“Just need to run a scan. I, uh, fell off the jumpseat earlier and cracked my head. Just want to make sure everything’s okay.”

“I thought Time Lords didn’t get concussions.”

“We don’t. I just, I want to check.” He said, stepping into the sterile white room and moving towards the chair in its recessed nook in the wall.

It was a simple bench seat with a probe hanging on an arm from the ceiling. A simple job; sit down, close eyes, activate remotely with sonic screwdriver. Listen to machine whirr.

Click.

Click.

Done.

When the Doctor opened his eyes, the pictures were printing out of a slot in the infirmary wall, and Rose was leaning against the door with an eyebrow raised.

“That’s it?” she asked, “That’s a CAT scan?”

“No, it’s cranial imaging in the eighty-first millennium,” he said with a cheeky grin, collecting his printouts. He put his glasses on, examining the images closely, and quirked an eyebrow.

The scans of his brain showed…nothing abnormal. Nothing at all. The Kasterborous Plexus, the primary part responsible for telepathic signalling, was fine. It was functioning fine. Activity across his whole brain was normal, nothing was damaged, so-

Okay, so the Grand Library pedestal was fine, the scan indicating as such from his sonic was correct because his sonic screwdriver was also fine, and his brain was also totally, totally fine, which meant that the problem was either with the Gallifreyan collective mind, or it was, or…

The Doctor blinked back some tears, hearts clenching.

Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.

He’d been on Gallifrey. He’d SEEN other Time Lords. How could the collective mind have failed? How? How?!

What the fuck was happening?!

He just needed- he needed to sit down. And think. Alone.

Rose’s footsteps tapped across the infirmary floor, and she pulled him in for a hug, pressing against his front. Warm. She was so warm…

Her fingers were drawing distracting little circles on his back, and he was trying to keep his thoughts focused on the task at hand, racking his brains for why the collective mind would be unresponsive. He’d felt the outer edge of it, giving off the soft warmth it always had, but it was only when he delved past the surface that it turned up nothing-

“Doctor,” Rose hummed against his front, “You said we’d go to the library after you were done your scans…”

“I- Rose, I need a minute. I need to think.” He said, “Something’s wrong with- not with me, but with Gallifrey, with- with everything. All my scans came up normal, so it’s a problem with the collective mind and the rest of the network, which just shouldn’t happen, and nothing’s making any sense-“

His stream of babble was interrupted by Rose grabbing him by the lapels and reeling him in for a kiss.

The pictures of his brain scan fluttered to the floor, utterly forgotten.

Her lips tasted like banana lip gloss, which was just distracting enough for him to not immediately push her away- and by the time those neurons had managed to fire, Rose had pressed herself all along his front and had used his startled gasp as an excuse to slip her tongue into his mouth.

Her body ran so much warmer than his, and he melted into her, feeling her single heartbeat thrumming under his fingers. Her scent filled his head, clouding his thoughts with jasmine and honey. Everything was dripping through his fingers, his thoughts, his intellect, his worries, his fears. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he clutched onto her tight, nipping at her bottom lip before plunging back in to feel the boiling heat of her tongue in his mouth again.

Rose pulled away, and the Doctor sucked in a breath, face flushed and thoughts swimming.

“Come to the library,” she whispered, “You can worry about that later.”

The Doctor let himself be dragged down the hall, letting Rose tug him into the library and onto the couch. He stood up long enough to slip out of his longcoat and drape it over the back of a chair, and then flopped back down, fishing in his pockets for one of the two books he’d taken out from the library. The older book brushed against his fingertips first, and he pulled it out (along with his specs) settling back against the couch and flipping past the introductory guff to the table of contents.

Rose flopped down next to him, the comfy old sofa creaking under her weight, and then to the Doctor’s shock, she snuggled into his side.

“Whatcha readin’?” she asked, tongue poking out from between her teeth, and his hearts did a little flip.

“Oh, you know. Nothing special. Just some…light interest stuff,” he said with a cheeky grin.

He wasn’t lying.

The TARDIS didn’t translate Gallifreyan, so Rose would never know that the title of the book was A TREATISE ON LIFE-EXTENSION METHODS IN HOMO SAPIENS IN THE SIXTY-THIRD MILLENIUM.

He wanted to look into it. For her. Find out if it was even medically possible to have that forever she’d promised him, or at least a snippet of it, a few hundred years; but.

Only if she was okay with it.

He’d find out, do the research, and then make the offer. Yes or no. If she said no…well, he’d just have to make the most of the sixty years she had left, and fill every moment with as much wonder as he possibly could.

“I think you’re full of it,” Rose hummed, headbutting him gently. She was reading an adventure novel from the near future on Earth; book three from the Velos-Verse, by one Jasha Sedai.

They both settled in to read, the only noise the ticking of the clock and the turning of pages. The Doctor read a lot faster than Rose- but as the minutes wore on, he realized something. His eyebrow slowly creeped skywards, and his frown deepened.

This book, which was from the Grand Fucking Library and should be a complete breakdown of all of the methods that humanity had invented by the 63rd millennium…was just telling him things he already knew.

None of this was new information. Nothing in this book was teaching him something. It was just taking things that he’d learned years ago, jumbling up the words, and spitting it out in blocks of pretty prose. What…?

The Doctor closed the book with a snap and put it on the coffee table where Rose was resting her feet, rummaging in his pocket for the other book.

The newer one.

His hearts clenched when his fingers touched the spine, and he stiffened once it was out and in his hands.

The leather was black and glossy, and it smelled like new paper and ink. The scent of books was one of the reasons the Time Lords were so insistent on proper hard copy; as a race with advanced senses, the smell of paper and pulp and knowledge was comforting to them.

But this book wasn’t comforting. It felt like a cursed tome, a book of eldritch knowledge.

THE END OF THE TIME WAR AND THE RETURN OF GALLIFREY, the title read, and the Doctor shivered.

“Other book no good?” Rose asked him, nuzzling into his side, and the Doctor nodded.

“Yeah. Just…just a load of stuff I already knew,” he said quietly, biting his lip and opening the evil volume in his hands.

The table of contents had all manner of horrible things, with events listed in a manner that brought horrid memories to the back of his mind. And yet, even as he read the names, the visions of death and suffering didn’t choke him, didn’t surge forward and drown him in flashbacks, and that was itself bizarre and worthy of concern.

And then, down at the bottom of the page. Chapter 48.56: UNBINDING OF THE TIME LOCK AND THE SALVATION OF GALLIFREY.

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief and flipped ahead to the proscribed chapter, eagerly awaiting the explanation for his planet being back and his people’s return.

His face fell.

Rose looked up from her book and quirked an eyebrow.

“Why’s it blank?” she asked, confusion on her face.

The Doctor’s mind was reeling. Everything was in freefall.

He stared at the chapter heading, eyes flicking between the bold inking in his native tongue, and the vast expanse of empty space below it. The chapter had a title, and then it was just- just- blank paper.

He turned the page, the smell of new-cut paper billowing up at him, and stared at the blank pages that followed. He flipped through the second half of the book- blank. Everything was blank. All of it was blank.

He turned back to the chapter before, and there was a description of the end of the Time War, a line about him, his name-

“DOCTOR!” Rose shouted, grabbing him by the sides of his face and yanking his head to look at her.

He was breathing hard, and as the tension uncoiled from his shoulders, he realized he’d been curling his hands into claws. He might have even growled. Fear and terror shot through him- what was happening?! What was happening?!

“What’s wrong?” Rose asked, voice level and steady, eye contact unbroken.

“The book,” he croaked, “The book’s blank.”

“I can see that. Why’s it a problem? What’s a blank book mean?”

The Doctor shook.

“Means something’s wrong with the library. This book- I got it ‘cause it’s a…it’s a history book. About the end of the Time War. And this-“ he showed her the blank page, “Is- is the chapter explaining how Gallifrey came back, how everyone- how-“

His voice petered out and the book tumbled from his fingers and hit the floor with a thump.

Rose held him as he leaned against her, falling into her arms until his head was in her lap with his feet still on the floor.

“Nothing makes sense,” he croaked, “If Gallifrey’s back, they’d have written down how it happened a thousand ways to Sunday. I’d be eyeball-deep in books, not just this one. I’d- I’d have a blow-by-blow, down to the minute, from a hundred observers warping in with their TARDISes to observe. And it’s blank, Rose, it’s just- it’s bl-“

His eyes went wide as her fingers tangled in his hair, and then started rubbing down his neck. Rose’s fingers hit the patch of skin right at the base of his skull, behind his ear, and started to stroke.

He melted into her lap, eyes unfocusing. Skitters of warm pleasure shot from the place she was petting him down his spine and into his skull, leaving him all loose and droopy. A purr rumbled its way from the depths of his chest, half-lidded eyes staring at the dancing flames in the lit fireplace.

“Been a while, hey?” Rose said softly, “Since anyone did this for you?”

It had been centuries. Not that Rose knew that. And actually, while he was at it, how _DID_ she know about the special spot, the calming patch, because he’d never told her that petting him there was a great way to leave him all calm and drippy like this-

Another brush of fingers, and it all trailed off into gooey purring and humming.

There they were, Rose playing with his hair and giving him scratches behind the ear and petting him right there in the special spot that he’d never told her about. And-

His hearts had already melted into little puddles. This was just melting the meltwater.

He laid there in her lap for a minute or an hour, time spiralling past him without meaning. Eventually, though, Rose pulled her fingers away, and his calm-fogged brain started to uncloud itself- albeit slowly.

“Sit up,” she whispered, and he levered himself upright with a few encouraging shoves from her, thoughts still swimming through syrup.

“Rose,” he turned his head slightly, looking her in the eyes, “What-“

He was just starting to marshal his thoughts into order again, trying to keep his focus on the books, on the lack of information, on the palpable undercurrent of wrongness, when Rose-

She straddled his lap and looked him in the eyes with a sultry smile. His protesting croaks were cut off with the look on her face as she leaned in to whisper into his ear.

“I missed you,” Rose purred, “I think we’ve got some catching up to do…”

She nipped at the shell of his ear, and his face flushed bright red. The room’s temperature had skyrocketed, and he was having tremendous trouble finding enough air. All his attempts at thinking through the issues swirling around him shattered into pieces and drifted away on the winds.

“Right now we’ve got the place to ourselves,” she purred, “An’ I missed you. I missed you an awful lot.”

One of her hands was playing with his tie, loosening it, reaching down to fiddle with the buttons of his oxford; the other one was stroking his hair, stroking the side of his face, and she was looking at him, with, with intent-

“You’re asking to-“ he was flushed, now, exemplary Time Lord control over his circulatory system one of many, many things that weren’t working in his brain at that moment. Unlike his blood flow, which was absolutely working, and taking blood very much away from his brain. But he needed to know that she wasn’t- that this was-

_“Dance,”_ Rose purred into his ear, “Thought you said you knew how?”

And with that, every last coherent thought in his mind blasted out the airlock and into the cold depths of space.

* * *

He wanted to reach out and touch the flame. He wanted to bond with her, enter her mind and let her into his. Twine them together forever, three hearts, two minds, a bridge between them that would never, ever shatter.

He’d asked, in the throes of it. Begged, really.

She covered his mouth with hers and never gave him an answer.

So he didn’t touch her mind, didn’t touch her thoughts.

And yet…

The faint stirrings of emotion from the edges of her thoughts, they all felt…

Oddly hollow.

And then, of course, all thoughts and musings were stripped away when she moved a certain way, and all fear and worry and concern was blasted back by a wall of blinding white.

* * *

They’d found their way, half-dressed and sated, to his room. And as the Doctor curled in the sheets with her in his arms, he stared up at the galaxy swirling on his ceiling and smiled.

She was tucked against his side, sound asleep.

Having Rose here, in his room, sleeping in his bed with him, was something he’d dreamed of for years. Gotten the chance once or twice, when nightmares had claimed her and she couldn’t sleep. She’d come in and used his chest as a pillow, while he’d sat back and read, letting her rest against him. Keeping her safe.

Rose. His Rose. Compassionate and caring and clever and witty, she picked up on alien customs and knew how to smooth down ruffled feathers. She’d taken to his life like a fish to water, and, and-

He closed his eyes.

This body, his body, had been born for her. Leather and blue eyes had died for her, and in his death throes had remade himself into something he thought Rose would love. Could love.

She always had, though, hadn’t she?

He held her close, closing his eyes. Did it matter if nothing made sense? Did it really matter?

He was safe. He was at peace. Rose was back. Gallifrey was back.

Did it matter?

_“Yes.”_ A voice from the corner of the room spoke, and the Doctor jerked his head up to stare at it.

“You-!” he hissed.

The voice was, well, was like if Donna had put on a Northern accent for some reason, and her voice had dropped half an octave. And she was staring at him, blue eyes and leather jacket and folded arms and surly scowl, staring at him from the corner of a bookcase and the wall.

“Who are you?” the Doctor hissed, “What do you want?!”

“The fairytale’s ending, Sleeping Beauty,” she growled, “An’ if you want to live, I suggest you wake the fuck up.”

He held his eyes open, forced them to stay wide. Forced himself not to blink, lest she vanish.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

**“Think.”** She snapped, “Think about what’s happening. Think about what you’re seeing. You’ve got a minute now, so think. And ask yourself, why does** nothing** make _any sense at all?”_

His eyes were streaming, and he blinked.

She was gone.

The Doctor fell back on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling.

The swirling stars projected onto his ceiling were a galaxy. The Theros Galaxy.

Famously, the home of the Tauran race.

He frowned.

Donna and Taurans. Donna and Taurans. And everything was perfect, except for Donna and Taurans.

Everything was so perfect. Everything was just as he’d wanted it.

Everything was almost…too perfect.

It was almost like he was stuck in a-

“DOCTOR! ROSE!” Donna’s voice, and that was DEFINITELY the regular Donna’s voice, echoed down the halls, through his slightly-ajar bedroom door.

The Doctor groaned and sat up, looking for his discarded shirt.

“Doctor? Rose? Where- Oh.” Donna pushed the door open and leaned in, and the first thing she’d seen were the Doctor’s naked man-tits.

“Well it’s about bloody time!” Donna said with a grin, “Anyway, get dressed, lovebirds. There’s people outside waiting for you.”

“People?” the Doctor echoed, lifting the sheet to check if he’d put his boxers back on. Yes, but it still felt weird being so naked around Donna.

“Friends!” Donna chirped, “Now hurry up. I’ll see you outside!”

The Doctor rubbed his eyes and stood up, wandering over to his dresser.

Friends.

Was this all too perfect?

Yes.

Did he care?

The Doctor stared at the ceiling.

_Did_ he care?

Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoying the fluff? From here on out, we're full-tilt into a cavalcade of insanity. Brace yourselves. 
> 
> As per usual, if you liked it, if you hated it, if you want me to go stab myself in the eyes with a Sonic Screwdriver, leave a comment! I read 'em all, and they fuel this fire. And boy, is the fire building.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Nine have a chat, and something's wrong with Ten...

“Any reason we’re not goin’ with them?” Rose asked as Donna and Jack walked away, “I hate sittin’ around waiting…”

The Doctor shook his head.

“If he crawls back to consciousness, it might just be for a few seconds. We’ve got to get that helmet off him the minute he wakes up, or he might go back asleep an’ never wake up again. We might get only one chance.” He said, sighing.

Rose sat back against the opposite wall, clearly annoyed at their predicament.

After a few minutes of staring at the man in pinstripes, she finally worked up the courage to ask the Doctor the question that had been bothering her all afternoon.

“So…” Rose said, “Why’s he look nothing like you? Why should we assume he’s you if he doesn’t look anything like you at all?”

The Doctor lifted up his future self’s hand, holding it by the wrist, and gestured for Rose to come closer.

“Two fingers,” he said, showing her with his own hand. Index and middle finger together, feeling around for the wrist pulse point. Rose wobbled unsteadily; she was leaning over the future-Doctor’s body, doing her best not to touch him.

And then-

Her eyes went wide when she felt the four beats. Thump-thump-thump-thump. Thump-thump-thump-thump.

“It’s the same as yours…” she whispered, and the Doctor nodded.

“So…he’s you, then. Or…at least he’s a Time Lord. But you didn’t know, you- you didn’t check his pulse. How were you so sure?”

The Doctor tapped his temple.

“I can feel it in here,” he said, “When I’m in…when I’m overlapping my own time stream. Feels like an itch, a small niggle in the back of my mind. Like I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be seeing this. That’s my subconscious, telling me that Time is in danger, and that I should go. An’ I bet wherever he is now, he’s getting the same sense. That I’m here, and he needs to run away.”

Rose just nodded, running her eyes over the lean man in pinstripes again.

“So…So why’s he look different?” she asked slowly.

The Doctor sighed and sat back against the wall, shuffling away from his future self. Rose stepped over the future-Doctor’s legs, coming to sit near to her Doctor.

“I…Time Lords like me, we’ve got a little trick to cheat death,” the Doctor started, “When we’re mortally wounded, we…regenerate. Remake every cell in our bodies. New face, new voice, new personality…same memories. And… him being here means I died and regenerated at some point.”

He turned and looked at Rose. She was wide-eyed, flicking between the sleeping man on the floor and her Doctor.

“So…you...you can change your face? Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

The Doctor snorted.

“Yeah, that would’ve gone well. “Hey, Rose Tyler, want to see the stars? I’ve got a magic blue box that does all of time and space and oh by the way, I’ll probably become an entirely different person at some point!” because THAT wouldn’t have sent you running for the hills…” he sighed, rubbing his face.

Rose shuffled a bit closer.

“But…he’s the same man, right?” she said, “He’s still you. You’re still in there somewhere.”

“Yeah. But he’s a completely different person to me. The me that was is dead.” The Doctor said, somewhat bitterly, “I fucking hate crossing my own time stream.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Rose reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder.

“He’s from the future,” Rose said slowly, “An’ we don’t know how far in the future. He could be you a thousand years from now. Donna doesn’t know, an’ he can’t tell us. Maybe he’s you in such a long time that it doesn’t matter.”

The Doctor let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

He reached up and covered the hand Rose had placed on his shoulder, nodding a few times.

“Had thought of that,” he said, “I hope you’re right. Maybe he’s me three regenerations from now. Maybe he’s Twelve or something.”

“Twelve?”

“I’m Nine,” The Doctor said, “I keep a count of how many regenerations I’ve got left. I’ve used nine of them, so I’m Nine. If you’re right, he’s…twelve or something.”

They both sat in silence for a few moments.

“So…why didn’t you tell me about this earlier? Really. The real reason.” Rose piped up again, the awkward air threatening to strangle her.

The Doctor sighed.

“The real reason is that I don’t want the entire universe knowing that death isn’t the end for me. That’s why. And…Rose, I’m 900 years old. That’s middle age, for a Time Lord. I could live for thousands of years if I’m careful and stop burning through bodies so quickly. You…you’re a human.”

He paused, picking his next words very carefully. Choking down the _a fantastic, incredible human that outshines all the other stupid apes around you and who I’m unworthy to even speak to_ that was brewing on his tongue.

“I expected that you’d never learn about regeneration because by the time I’d have to do it, you’d be long since dead.” He said quietly, looking at her with sorrow in his eyes.

Rose pulled him in for a hug, dropping his hand to hold him close. Arm around his torso, pulling him into her side. Letting him rest his head on her shoulder.

His hearts did a little flip.

He didn’t deserve it.

They separated after a few moments, Rose’s fingers finding his and twining their fingers together again.

Her hands were so warm.

His hearts swelled a little.

“Maybe that was wrong of me,” he croaked after a long pause, “Maybe I should have told you. But…”

_I didn’t want to think about living in a universe without you._

“Well, I’d rather find out now, let you tell me, than find out when you regenerate on me or something like that,” Rose said, her voice somewhat strained.

They sat in silence for a bit, listening to the other Doctor’s breathing. Both thinking.

He would have been content to stay there forever.

But they were there for a reason, and he had a job to do. And this tightness in his chest, the desire to tell her, he needed to bury it under busyness and frantic running. If he ran away from his feelings and drowned them under duty and gruffness, she’d stay safe.

So. Back to it.

The Doctor stood up, then, letting Rose’s hand fall away, and started to fiddle with the helmet with his screwdriver. Fussing with various things, buzzing here and buzzing there, and finally he sat back down with a satisfied nod.

“That should about do it,” he said quietly.

“What was that?”

“Set it up so anyone can pull the helmet off. Yank on the cable three times, then pull it away. It’ll release.”

“Why’s that- what if it falls off?! Won’t that-“ Rose’s voice petered out when she realized what might happen to the future-Doctor if the helmet just fell off.

Her Doctor shook his head. “It won’t. It’s not coming off unless someone takes it off. And actually, while I’m at it…”

He leaned forward and fiddled with something else, and with a SHUNK, pushed up the metal screen covering the other man’s eyes.

The older Doctor had his eyes closed, lost peacefully in his sleep. Some of his hair was poking out from under the helmet, mashed against his forehead- whatever this thing was doing, it hadn’t shaved him or anything. Rose had to stop herself from reaching out and touching his face. He looked…

“…He’s very cute,” Rose said, before remembering who else was in the room with her, and biting her lip. The look in her Doctor’s eyes was hard to read, but there was a definite flare of jealousy in those pools of blue.

Another one of her pretty-boys.

Then he blinked, and it was gone; unreadable again.

“…Are you sure the wall terminal won’t help?” Rose asked, trying to change the subject.

The Doctor shook his head. “That’s just a display. I already scanned it. Whatever simulation they’re running, it’s controlled elsewhere.”

“Why, though?” Rose said, “Why trap him in a simulation at all? What is this place?”

“If I had to guess?” the Doctor said, “If I had to guess, this is a hospital ship. For, I’m assuming, treating issues with the brain. Beyond that, I don’t know.”

“How can you not know? You always know…” Rose folded her arms, “What’s the good in having you, then?”

The Doctor stiffened. “Doesn’t matter, does it? We’ve got Jack with us. He’ll know more about this century than me. I just know the basics.”

Rose quirked an eyebrow. “Really. Are you sure you’re not just keeping secrets for some mad plan later on?”

The Doctor scowled.

“Now, listen here, Rose Tyler,” he said, “Why don’t you tell me all about the Charlottetown Conference?”

“The what?”

“That time back in 1867 when a bunch of soon-to-be Canadians got every relevant British diplomat blacked out drunk in a boardroom in Prince Edward Island and said diplomats signed away a bunch of British land, making Canada a country. Not a shot fired, aside from the hangovers. You didn’t know? Didn’t you know?”

“No…”

“Exactly my point,” The Doctor said, putting away his screwdriver and pulling a little puzzle cube out of his pocket to keep his hands busy, “Everyone’s got their blind spots. I don’t come to the 51st century much ‘cos it’s a minefield of fixed points in Time.”

Things went silent for a bit. The Doctor was absorbed in his puzzle cube, an old toy from back when he’d still had a planet to call home. And yet as his fingers scrabbled at the polished brass tiles, his mind was whirring away.

Pinstripes didn’t FEEL like a version of himself from a time far in the future. In fact, Pinstripes felt like he was something looming, something near.

And he wasn’t travelling with Rose Tyler.

Couple possibilities. Rose had died of old age (Please, Rassilon, no), Rose had left him (Even worse), or…

He’d somehow, at some point in his future, fucked up so badly that he’d lost the one truly, unquestionably good thing in his life. The girl who stumbled into his blue box and brought some light to it, brought life and colour and a reason to fall asleep and brave the hellscape of his nightmares- just so he could wake up refreshed enough to show her something else that would make her smile.

If Rose asked him to burn a planet, he’d have an awfully hard time forcing himself to say no.

She meant more to him than anything else.

Aside from his TARDIS.

And possibly Jack.

And Pinstripes had quite possibly fucked up and lost her.

“Hatred” was an awfully strong word, but if this skinny twink had truly gone and lost his Rose, he’d- he’d-

…Continue to sit here, pining and seething in self-hatred, because paradoxes and stuff.

Fuck.

Rose’s hand found his shoulder, and the Doctor looked up to see her smiling at him.

The tension oozed out of him, and he let his shoulders slump.

He smiled back- a small thing- and then returned to his puzzle cube.

“He looks like he fidgets a lot,” Rose observed, “he’s so thin, and he’s got callouses. And you already can’t sit still as it is. He must be just squirrelly.”

The Doctor snorted. “Surprisingly, Rose, I _was_ able to sit still once upon a time.”

“Really? And how long ago was that, then?”

“Back when I was a spotty 200-year-old kid.”

She snorted and punched his shoulder, and he clamped down on the feeling in his chest. The warm feeling he got whenever she laughed.

It was nice.

He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve her.

He was going to taint her, destroy her, drag her down with his bloodstained hands and ruin her like every other fucking thing he touched.

As much as he wanted more, he couldn’t.

She deserved better than the likes of him.

Rose leaned against him. She was so warm.

He swallowed.

The last piece on his puzzle cube clicked into place.

He turned to Rose and opened his mouth. And then closed it again and looked away.

Coward, any day.

The Doctor’s contemplation was interrupted, then, by his future self convulsing again.

A primal scream tore from the other man’s throat, a wail of pain that stood the small hairs on the back of the Doctor’s neck on end. He was thrashing, now, screaming, arms flailing-

** _“DON’T TOUCH ME!” _ **

The terror, the rage, the fear in his voice- it set the small hairs on the back of the Doctor’s neck standing on end.

Rose looked at him for a fraction of a second, eyes wide, before grabbing his arms, trying to pin him down so he couldn’t thrash. She was staring at the helmet, staring at the cable, gnawing her lip as he whipped it around-

The Doctor had his phone out and was dialing Jack before he could answer the unasked string of questions.

He was fucking done with sitting on his ass waiting for Jack and Donna to finish screwing around. 

Three rings, and Jack was on the other end-

The Doctor barely let Jack get through his greeting, cutting him off with a terse growl.

“No time, Jack. The “situation” is that Pinstripes has lost his fucking mind and is having an epileptic fit and screaming in terror,” the Doctor snapped, “That’s the ‘situation’. I can’t- I’m not gonna sit on my arse any longer while my future goes insane, so if you an’ Donna wouldn’t mind, we need you to get back down here, NOW.” He snapped.

A pause.

“Good. Five or less is good. **Hurry.”**

He hung up.

Rose had let go of the other Doctor- the flailing had stopped, but he wasn’t relaxed. Every muscle was tensed, and he was twitching and shivering like he wanted to run away.

“They’re on their way,” the Doctor snapped, “An’ with maps. They’ve found the mainframe. I’ll go- I’ll go find it an’ get him out of there, an’ you’re gonna stay here with Jack-“

“Oh, no I’m not!” Rose protested, “I’m coming with you-“

The Doctor grabbed her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes.

“Rose,” he growled, “This isn’t an argument. I’m not lettin’ you get stuffed into one of these-“

** _“YOU’RE NOT ROSE!”_ **

Conversation was derailed by the Doctor in pinstripes screaming at the top of his lungs, Rose and her Doctor snapping their heads to look at him in shock.

“What did he just say…?” Rose echoed, “Was that-“

Before the Doctor could respond, the man on the floor screamed again at the top of his lungs.

“GET BACK!” he howled brokenly, **“GET AWAY FROM ME!”**

The Doctor was trying to say something, hoping his brain would provide answers, but all thoughts and plans flew out the window as his future self started SCREAMING.

Screaming in pain, thrashing and howling and desperate, tangled pleas in his native tongue twisting into howls of agony- the Doctor caught the words “jolt” and “please” and the rest was tangled terror and, and-

“DOC!” Jack shouted, slamming into the open glass door and bouncing off. He was out of breath, panting like he’d sprinted the whole way there, and Donna-

Donna was a step behind, and she leaped into the room. Saw her Doctor on the floor writhing and screaming in agony and just, lunged, all fours above him-

Grabbed his wrists, pinned him so he couldn’t thrash, eyes wide, please, please stop, please, please-

“ROSE! STOP IT- **FUCK!” **the man on the floor howled in strained but comprehensible English, and-

He went very, very still. Like someone had hit the pause button on the Doctor in pinstripes, trapping him between one second and the next. His muscles went slack, his head lolled back to the side, and the lines of agony etched onto his face smoothed out into a troubled but calm expression.

Silence filled the air, and Donna slowly sat back on her heels, getting up and stepping to the other side of the room.

“He- how long-?” Donna choked out.

“Since I called,” the Doctor said, face drawn and pensive, “I- fuck. I don’t know what’s happening in there, but we need to get him out. Now.”

He stood up, and Jack shoved a bunch of things into his hands.

A data slate and a bunch of bloodstained old lanyards.

“We got a map,” Jack said, “And I found all of those. Reckon they’ll open the locks around here. The medical mainframe’s on Deck 5 in the cargo area- the main elevator should take you there.”

The Doctor nodded, dropping the lanyard ball on the floor next to Rose. He pulled out his Sonic and waved it at Jack, as if to say _do I look like I need your silly lanyards? _ He stuffed the data slate into his pocket, making sure it was within easy reach.

Rose’s eyes fell on a golden lanyard poking out of the tangle, and while everyone else was looking at the Doctor, she grabbed it and stuffed it in her pocket. With that, she got to her feet, folding her arms.

“Right. I’ll go find it an’ see if I can’t get him out of there.” The Doctor said, striding towards the door.

“Wait, but- what about the helmet?!” Donna protested, “What if he wakes up while you’re off getting your head stoved in?!”

“I’ve set up the helmet to release without needing my Sonic,” the Doctor replied, “IF- and ONLY if- he opens his eyes and they focus on something, if it looks like he’s tracking movement with them- pull on the cable, HARD, three times in quick succession. It’ll release. Don’t need me around for that.”

He turned to the door to walk away, only for Donna to grab his arm.

“I’m coming with you.” Rose and Donna said at the exact same time, both jerking to look at each other and quirking an eyebrow.

“No, you’re not,” the Doctor growled, turning to look at Rose and sparing an aside glance for Donna, “I’m not letting anyone else get snapped up by these-“ his voice faltered as he looked at the cable snaking up into the wall.

“I’m not letting you get trapped in whatever nightmares he’s stuck in.” he finished, gesturing at the wall, “That’s just not happening.”

“So we’ll just stay here? Doing nothing? While you run off and get yourself killed?!” Rose protested, “Not happening, Doctor. I’m coming with you.”

“Actually,” Jack interrupted before the Doctor could speak, “You’re not. I need you here with me, Rosie. We gotta watch over the future-Doc.”

“And I’m going with him,” Donna said firmly, before Rose could interrupt, “This stupid alien is MY Doctor, and I know him. You lot don’t have a bloody clue. The key to waking him up might be knowing how he takes his tea or something stupid like that, and you wouldn’t have a prayer. So I’ll be going with Manchester here,” Donna jerked her head at the Doctor in leather, “And you two are going to stay put.”

The Doctor sighed, quirking an eyebrow at “Manchester” but saying nothing.

Rose scowled and folded her arms.

“I want to come with you.” she said firmly.

“We need you to stay here,” Donna interrupted, cutting off whatever the Doctor was about to say.

“Why’s that, then?” Rose snapped.

Donna gestured at the sleeping man on the floor.

“Because if _he’s _anything to go by, Leather Fetish over here is gonna get the both of us tied to an alien torture rack with a very angry wasp-rhino thing wanting to lay eggs down our bloody throats, all because he said its hat looked a bit shit!” Donna groaned, rubbing her forehead in exasperation, “and for once, some backup might be nice. So please, just- stay here. We’ll call you if we have any problems. Alright?”

Rose sighed. The sentiment was one she shared- it WAS nice to know there was backup, in the form of Jack, for when the Doctor’s idiocy or insensitivity or the universe just plain being a douche that day came a-calling.

“Fine,” she grumbled with a pointed glare at her Doctor.

To his credit, as the leather-clad man walked out the door, he did spare her an apologetic glance.

“Let’s go, Donna,” the Doctor said, and the redheaded woman followed, giving Rose a contrite look of her own as she followed the burly man in leather down the corridor.

As they walked, the Doctor pulled the data slate out of his pocket and started it up. He tapped on the glowing holographic screen to see an expanded layout of the fifth floor, examining the location of the mainframe in the cargo bay and the optimal route to get there.

“So, what’s happening in there to my Doctor? What was all that screaming about?” Donna asked him nervously as they headed for the elevator.

“I don’t know,” he rumbled, “but something tells me we’re running out of time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, didn't think I'd get this one out on Friday after all! It's been a crazy week, but here you go. 
> 
> As usual, if you loved it, hated it, or whatever else, leave a comment! I love comments, they make me happy. And fuel this story, seriously.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten's trying to make sense of it all. 
> 
> Things don't go according to plan...
> 
> (Posting this chapter on Sunday and not Monday because it's Remembrance Day tomorrow. Enjoy!)

“Come on, Doctor! Hurry up!” Donna yelled through the open TARDIS doors, grinning as the Doctor walked into the console room holding Rose’s hand.

“What’s the rush, Donna?” he said, “Time machine, remember? We can be as late as we like.”

“Yeah, but unlike some silly aliens I could mention, I might die of old age while you two are suckin’ each other’s faces off. Now hurry up!” Donna vanished, the door slamming behind her, and the Doctor shrugged and lead Rose out into the sunlight.

The sky was blue, the sun was shining, and the air was warm. Birds sang from the treetops, and the sound of music from a set of speakers resonated through the air.

The Doctor sniffed the air, the tantalizing smell of grilling meat filling his nostrils- beef and pork, with some veggie patties too. And of course, the ever-present smell of Rose cuddled into his side.

“Mmmm, it’s been bloody ages since I was at a cookout!” Rose chirped, dragging him towards the wooden gate leading into the Noble family’s small backyard.

Laughter and chatter rang out over the fence, and Rose undid the simple latch and pushed the gate open.

The yard was small and fenced in with white slats; a small deck connected to a back door to the house, where Wilfred Mott was standing by the grill with a few other blokes the Doctor recognized from UNIT standing around as well. The yard had been filled with tables and mismatched chairs, and almost every seat was filled with friends from ages past. Mickey Smith waved at him, kicking a football towards a bloke from Torchwood; Martha smiled and waved, leaning against the fence.

His heart did a flip. All his friends. All of them.

“And he’s arrived!” A cheerful voice called, “Doc! Good to see you!”

Jack Harkness strolled up, fully clothed, a smile on his face, and a beautiful woman the Doctor faintly recognized from UNIT on his arm. 

The Doctor braced himself for the pain against his time sense, the innate wrongness that pervaded every cell of Jack’s body. Standing next to Jack left the Doctor feeling like someone was rubbing his face with a cheese grater while their friend emptied a jar of fire ants down the back of his shirt.

…and he felt nothing. Jack…wasn’t tripping his time sense.

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow and whipped out his screwdriver, giving Jack a quick buzz in the face; the other man just laughed.

“I was gonna ask if that was your sonic screwdriver, or were you just happy to see me, but now I know!” Jack said, “And sadly it really was the screwdriver.”

“You’re uh, looking good, Jack,” the Doctor said, examining the result from his sonic with some confusion. Yup, that was Jack, as he should (NOT) be, living point in time and everything.

And somehow it wasn’t bothering the Doctor.

He opened his mouth to start bombarding Jack with questions, only for Rose to squeeze his hand.

“Can we go get something to eat? ‘M starved, an’ you’ve got to introduce me to everyone!” she said, pulling him down for a peck on the cheek that had his hearts stuttering in his chest.

Jack just chuckled as Rose dragged the Doctor away and went to go change the music from the weird disco shit it was playing to something actually half-decent, like Bon Jovi for example.

* * *

“…and he’d go on the roof,” Martha groaned, “ON THE BLOODY ROOF, and he’d lay there and stare at the stars, and he’d whine and whine about how bored he was. Do you have ANY idea how many times we got the cops called on us? Any idea at all?”

The Doctor’s face flamed red and he buried his head in his hands as everyone else around him cackled at Martha’s retelling of The Weeping Angels Incident. Which was what HE called it, but apparently, Martha preferred to call it The Unemployed Storm Incident instead. Which was just SLIGHTLY mortifying, thanks muchly.

Still.

Everyone had gotten their food and settled in along one of the longest tables, sitting in their mismatched collection of chairs and whatnot. Donna sat on his left, chowing down on something her Grandad had grilled up; Rose was on his right, powering through a generous pile of chips from one of the UNIT team’s portable fryers. Jack was somewhere else, claiming he needed to take a call, but he was probably just flirting with everything that had a pulse. Across from him sat Martha and Mickey, with Sarah Jane off somewhere else, and- and-

And boy oh boy was he flushing red at the stories everyone was telling.

“That’s nothin’,” Donna said, swallowing a huge mouthful of beef, “This one time, we were at some nightclub, trying to find these Ontarix eggs, ‘cos they were about to hatch an’ reenact Aliens on everyone in the club. So we find them, but one of ‘em gets inside of him. Turns out the one thing that kills the parasites is loads and loads and loads of alcohol-“

“Oh my GOD,” Rose squeaked, eyes shining, as the Doctor attempted to bury his way into his coat.

“Dancing on the bloody tables, he was. It was BRILLIANT.” Donna was cackling, slapping a friendly hand on the Doctor’s shoulder and pulling him in for a hug.

“Thanks, are we done now?” he squeaked.

“NO WE’RE NOT!” Sarah Jane roared from the head of the table, “NO WE’RE BLOODY NOT, MISTER _“I NEED TO LICK THIS ALIEN WALL-TITTY FOR SCIENCE!” _I was traumatized! Still am, as a matter of fact!”

“It was a hive!” he protested, “It was a Polyergus hive, and it wasn’t a breast, it was a psychic honey dispenser, and I needed to get some in my mouth so I could tap into their-“

The howls of laughter from all along the table had the Doctor flopping back in his chair.

And yet.

Even with his face flaming red, embarrassing stories swirling to the front of his mind as he prepared to return fire…

This was nice.

This was so, so nice.

He took a bite of the grilled burger Wilfred had done up and hummed in pleasure, eyes sparkling as he swallowed.

Just as he was arming up for retaliatory embarrassing-story fire, starting with the “Sarah Jane Smith flirts with a statue for an hour before realizing it’s not alive” incident, Jack walked over and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Doc,” he said seriously, “hate to be a buzzkill, but I need to show you something.”

The Doctor sighed and stood up.

“Duty calls, hey?” Mickey asked, and the Doctor just nodded.

“Never a dull moment!” he said, smile fading as Jack pulled him back out the gate and by the side of the house.

There was an alien device in his hands, and he handed it to the Doctor. A communicator from Torchwood HQ- and on the slim screen was an image of the earth, with a collection of lines showing an object in orbit. Their scanners had picked up on something.

“We’ve been tracking a ship in orbit,” Jack said solemnly, “And it’s not one I’ve ever seen before. They’re broadcasting a signal, although it’s not- it’s not something that non-alien tech can pick up. You wanna take a stab at it? Because the guys are calling me back to base so we can figure this out. We don’t know who they are or what they want.”

The Doctor hummed, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and fiddling with the buttons on the communicator.

“Play the signal.” He ordered Jack.

The sound turned up on the device, and a faint sound like…screeching…. Could be heard.

“…That’s not any language I’ve ever run across,” he said quietly, squinting, “It…it sounds…faked. Like someone cut up a bunch of human screams and stuck them together wrong. I don’t think there’s anything to that message.”

He quirked an eyebrow, gesturing at the small device. “What shape is the ship?” he asked.

Jack obligingly pulled up the schematic they’d been able to glean from the scans, showing it to the Doctor on the little device.

“What…” the Doctor whispered, peering at it, and then staring at Jack incredulously.

“What is it?”

“It’s…a Tauran ship,” he said quietly, “There’s Taurans in orbit…”

“Is that a problem?” Jack asked, “Taurans, what would the Taurans want in the 21st century-“

“Nothing. Nothing from Earth at least,” the Doctor said, “Because they don’t have FTL travel yet. They’re on the same level of technological progress as humanity is at this point. They CAN’T be here, because they don’t have warp drives yet…this is like if the Nazis turned up outside of Rome while Nero was still tuning his fiddle.”

“Time travel, maybe?” Jack said, scratching his chin, “Come back and win that war before it even starts?”

The Doctor stiffened.

“What, the- the 51st century one?” he said, “That’s- It’d create a paradox, I-“

Jack shrugged. “Just spitballing. What do you want to do about it?”

The Doctor took the communicator and started to fiddle with it, playing with his screwdriver, adjusting some settings, and replacing the battery to one of the special cells he kept in his pocket for just such an occasion.

“I’m gonna hail them,” he said, reversing the signal, “Ask what they want. And- mind if I hold onto this for a minute?” he held up the communicator and gave it a little shake.

Jack shook his head. “Not at all. What do you want me to do?”

The Doctor jerked his head at the picnic. “Get back in there and finish your burger. I’ll be right back.”

He ducked into the TARDIS without much more preamble, walking up to the console and plugging Jack’s communicator into it.

There were so many switches and settings that needed fiddling with, and he set his magnificent ship to decrypt their signal while he was busy reversing the message and sending his own back.

Something simple.

_Hello, I’m the Doctor. Please state your intentions, this planet is under my protection. I’d like to talk. _

That kind of thing.

With the message sending from the communicator and the TARDIS still struggling with the translation, he had a moment to himself to think.

He looked up.

And sighed.

There she was, leaning against a coral strut.

“What do you want from me?” he asked Other-Donna, blue eyes and leather jacket and intense scowl.

“I don’t want anything from you,” she growled back, “I’m trying to help you.”

He blinked, and she was gone.

The Doctor growled, spinning around-

And there she was again.

“Why do you keep DOING that?!” he barked, “What are you!? A Weeping Angel, what?! TELL ME WHO YOU ARE!”

“I’m here to help you wake the fuck up,” she growled, “I’m here to help you think.”

He blinked and turned back to the console, then looked up-

She was right next to him, leaning on the console herself, glaring at him. Closer than she’d ever been before. Those ice-blue eyes boring straight into his soul.

“Those aren’t your eyes,” he growled, “Those are- WERE- MINE.”

“And why do you think that is?” she snapped, “Why do you think I look like you? Why won’t Rose or anyone else let you have five seconds to think? Isn’t it all a bit convenient that the love of your life is back, that your planet is back, that you’re forgiven?”

He blinked.

Her words were rattling around inside his brain, knocking up against all the concerns he’d been shelving.

Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.

He blinked, and this time she was sitting in his jumpseat. Sitting like a man would, leg up with the ankle on the knee. Sitting like HE used to sit.

“Think back,” she growled, “Think back to the floor. What happened _before _you woke up on the grating and everything was suddenly…_Fantastic?”_

And for one word, that wasn’t Donna’s voice, that was-

The Doctor clutched at his head. Memories of robotic arms surged into his mind, the helmet, the skullcap, the ship, the-

Nothing made sense. He was all alone and nothing was- was-

“I’m- I’m- It’s not-“ he spluttered, and his hearts clenched. No. No. No.

Everything was perfect, please, please don’t tear it all away from him, please, PLEASE NOT AGAIN-

“Spit it out.” She growled.

No no no no no NO

“It’s not r-,” the Doctor whispered-

The TARDIS doors opened with a bang before he could finish, and Rose sashayed in, the doors closing behind her.

“Doctor!” she called, “Come on, what’s taking you so long? Everyone’s waiting for you! Donna’s mum made banana cake and everything!”

He was still staring at Not-Donna.

Her scowl had darkened to an expression of cold, hateful fury, eyes turning to look at Rose.

He blinked.

She vanished.

Rose’s hand landed on his shoulder, and the Doctor jumped and spun around, console edge pressing into the small of his back.

“What’s gotten into you?” Rose said with a playful grin, “You’re not usually this jumpy…”

Memories were swirling like stormclouds, fear kicking its way through the enforced calm, terror bashing a sledgehammer through the comforting hum of the collective mind. The Doctor stared down at her, and nothing- nothing-

His hearts clenched.

_Something was wrong. _

Rose sighed and grabbed his lapels, pulling him in, and this time-

**_“DON’T TOUCH ME!”_** he roared, shoving her away hard enough to throw her onto the grating with a rattling clang.

He needed to run. He needed to run, far, far, far away, and he needed to run and run and run and hide and think and then run, run, run to the ends of the universe and maybe farther, so much farther-

Instinct hammered at him to flee into the depths of his ship, and he ran for the corridor-

And nearly slammed facefirst into a wall.

A wall, where the corridor entrance used to sit.

He smacked at it, at this slab of blank white wall, and started screaming, pounding his fists into it, ROSE, ROSE, SOMETHING WAS WRONG, SOMETHING WAS WRONG, WRONG, WRONG-

Rose had gotten up and she was between him and the TARDIS doors, and his ship, he couldn’t hear the hum of the ship in his mind, and, and-

“Doctor,” Rose said with a scowl, “That wasn’t very nice of you…”

Her tone was wrong. Her words were wrong. And she was still coming towards him, and-

Something, something-

**_ “YOU’RE NOT ROSE!”_** he screamed, memories pounding railroad spikes through his brain and out of his skull, fear and his basest desire- to flee- jolting terror into his very soul.

“Calm down,” Rose purred, her anger gone in a flash. She was walking towards him-

“GET BACK!” He roared, **“GET AWAY FROM ME!”**

With Rose no more that a step away, he bolted to her left, tried to flee, and her hand grabbed his arm with a strength no human should have-

The touch hurt, it hurt like being jabbed with a cattle prod; electricity slamming into his arm and burning, snapping, crackling-

He screamed. He screamed and babbled in his native tongue, howling pleas for her to stop, please, please STOP IT

It was agony, it was burning jolting stinging agony, and his hearts were beating out of sync with each other, and he was spasming-

“ROSE! STOP IT- **FUCK!”** he howled, sinking down to the grating as the thing holding his arm grabbed him by the back of his neck, pressed him into the grating-

The world was spiraling around him, encroaching blackness-

“Sleep, Doctor,” Rose hummed somewhere above him, “This is all just a bad dream…”

He thrashed against her, but it was useless. The pain ebbed, the arcing agony, and it all started to soften at the edges, darkness eating the corners of his vision even as the steel grating dug into his cheeks.

The blackness ate its way to the middle, until all he could see was a distant pinprick of light, and then–

Everything went black.

* * *

He blinked awake, lying on his back on the grating and staring up at the TARDIS ceiling.

A circle of concerned faces all around him.

His time sense told him- told him-

Told him sweet fuck all?

He’d been out for…he didn’t know.

The Doctor’s hearts clenched. No. No. He ALWAYS knew how much time had passed, how long he’d been out, what- what-

“Doctor?” Rose said, and his eyes went wide. He tried to get up, to scramble away from her, only to bump into Jack’s legs. The former captain pulled him to his feet, and the Doctor started to back away from Rose, back away from all of them.

Eyes wide and shaking.

“Doctor?” Donna tried, arms folded, “What’s gotten into you?”

“Rose-“ he choked out, “Rose attacked me, I-“

Rose raised an eyebrow, everyone sharing a look of confusion.

“You passed out on the grating,” she said, “I came in and found you. You were just having a nightmare, that’s all. I went and got everyone after you started yelling…”

The Doctor shuddered. Something was wrong.

His friends, Martha, Jack, Rose, Donna, Mickey, Wilf- they all clustered around him, Donna grabbing his hands, all chatting away and assuring him that it was all fine, that he was probably just tired or something…

He wasn’t listening.

He looked around, desperately searching for Other Donna. She’d been showing up more and more. Maybe if she showed up, he’d know that it had been real, that it hadn’t been a nightmare. His eyes flicked all around the TARDIS, frantically, looking for blue eyes and red hair and leather. Please.

And she wasn’t-

She wasn’t anywhere.

Maybe it _was_ all a bad dream.

His shoulders slumped a little in relief, as his friends lead him outside and back into the garden.

Jack had retrieved his communicator and was fiddling with it with a frown on his face as the Doctor took a seat in a hard plastic garden chair. Sylvia came over and fussed at him, handing him a plate of banana cake with a flurry of admonishments, that he shouldn’t worry everyone like that, and yet-

The kernel of unease in his chest was still there, wriggling around like a parasite.

He decided to focus on the banana cake, the chatter all around him as everyone relaxed back into the party. Wilf threw some more burgers on the grill, and the chatter of UNIT personnel lulled him back towards calm.

The crumbs of the banana cake were all that was left by the time the Doctor snapped out of his reverie, and with Rose beside him, he opted to lick his plate clean. If only to hear her giggles of delight, gently thumping him in the shoulder. He smiled at her, eyes shining.

And then Jack stepped up behind him and leaned over his shoulder. And he looked alarmed.

“Doc,” Jack said nervously, “Something’s coming.”

The Doctor looked at him, and then at the communicator screen with a single raised eyebrow. Jack had set it to show something being broadcast from Torchwood HQ; they were tracking something entering the atmosphere. Something with shields. Something the size of a small ship.

ETA…_three minutes._

“The mothership’s dropping something off,” Jack said grimly, “And they’re coming straight for us.”

The Doctor nodded, standing up.

“What the hell is that?!” Donna yelled, pointing up at the clear blue sky overhead.

Streaking down from the heavens, getting bigger and bigger with each second that passed, was a ship. A small ship, for only a handful of passengers, but a ship nonetheless. The nosecone and belly glowed like the noonday sun as it slammed into the atmosphere to slow down. Even with the glow, he could still see the ovular shapes, the pointed ends- Tauran ship design.

Tauran ship design from **_the fifty-first fucking century. _**

“Doc,” Jack asked him, “What’s the plan?”

The Doctor nodded at UNIT and everyone else looking to him for direction.

“You lot,” he said, “Get ready but don’t open fire. I want to talk to them first.”

“You sure, Doc?” Jack asked.

“Dead sure.” The ship was slowing down, now, anti-grav engines up and rotated to repulse, and it was slowly lowering itself down towards their exact spot. The road beside the Noble’s yard was where it was moving; once it landed, there’d only be a thin wooden fence between his friends and an alien race who shouldn’t even be here yet.

The ship landed with a gentle hum on the other side of the fence, and the Doctor stepped towards the gate, expecting to go out and speak to them.

This plan was interrupted by a sharp humming and a sickly green glow, which enveloped the fence and melted it like it was made of butter and not sawn pine.

He could see the Tauran ship parked on the road, landing ramp down. Four Taurans stood, one of whom clutched the gun-shaped object that had melted the fence.

They all wore the same oval-shaped helmets, and all of them had the same blue skin. Hairless, about seven feet tall, and if he could see their faces he knew there’d be a third eye in the middle where the nose would be on a human. Long slender forelimbs with two stubby fingers and a thumb grasped a handful of weapons- the frontmost Tauran clutched a pair of curved swords, adorned with writing and tassles. Their legs were digitigrade and just as slender and smooth as the rest of them; and aside from their helmets, they were naked.

Which had the Doctor quirking an eyebrow, because Taurans in this time period were very, very fond of long green-silver robes, and not so fond of prancing around naked as the day they hatched.

“Hello!” he said to them with a smile on his face, stepping forward and holding his hands up, “I’m the Doctor. Pleased to meet you lot. D’ya mind just letting me know what your intentions for this planet are? I’m sure you’re reasonable people, and we can come to an agreement without anyone getting hurt.”

Donna stepped up beside him, eyes glinting with determination.

The Taurans, for their part, just started walking towards the party.

The Doctor frowned.

“Hold on, hold on,” he said, brows furrowing, “Look, I’m not asking a lot here. Can you just tell me what you want and what the problem is? I can help you. _I’m here to help.”_

**_“We want _you_, Time Lord.”_** The Taurans chorused in unison, **_“We need bodies charged with Artron energy. We need your humans and we need you.” _**

That, uh, that rather changed things. Artron energy- the energy of Time itself. What the TARDIS ran on, and what all of his companions (like it or not) ended up suffused with. Not enough to do them harm- it never would- but it would keep them looking younger a bit longer, stave off senescence for a while, that kind of thing-

“Well,” the Doctor said with a frown, “If you all just stop and put your weapons down, we can talk this out. There’s other ways of getting Artron energy- there’s a rift I can show you, I could easily cobble a collector together for you- but what do you need it for?”

**_“The Time Lords waged war and damaged the universe,”_** the Taurans droned**_, “We will use the energy in your bodies to shatter the temporal shields around Gallifrey and erase it from existence once and for all.”_**

And with that, the Doctor felt visions of fire and blood and war bubbling up in the back of his mind. Hot spikes of hate and terror pounded though him, EXTERMINATE mixing with screams and the smell of burning flesh, a button cold under his palm-

“You can’t,” he snarled, shaking his head to break the daze, “I won’t let you. Stop. **Stop this, right now.** Put your weapons down and get back in your ship. **This is your last chance.” **

The Doctor backed up, arse hitting one of the picnic tables as the Taurans kept coming, and then-

Donna had moved off to the side, by the dribbling remnants of the fence, the bit that was still upright. She was trying to creep around, move towards him, some clever plan in the works, because he knew his brilliant human, and she’d have something planned out-

The Tauran with two swords saw Donna, and-

It lunged. No preamble. No ceremony, no words spoken. It just saw a human, an innocent human who hadn’t even SPOKEN to it, and it lunged at her.

“DONNA-“ the Doctor screamed, bounding towards her-

Faster than blinking, the Tauran stabbed its sword forwards.

A flash of sliver gleamed through the air-

The Tauran’s blade rammed through Donna’s chest, straight through her heart.

It pulled the sword out, red human blood gleaming in the sunlight, as his best friend’s body fell backwards onto the grass with a dull thud.

The Tauran had killed her. No preamble, no discussion. _Just because it could._

Donna’s body lay on the lawn, blood gushing from the wound, a few choked gasps, and then-

A low groan.

And silence.

She was dead.

The Oncoming Storm howled in the back of his mind, pounding on the cage, hammering on the bars. It bayed for the Tauran’s blue blood, and with a SNAP that rang out across all of time and space, the lock holding it in broke like a matchstick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D 
> 
> Did you like it? Did you hate it? Leave a comment! Let me know your feelings, because I feed on them. Any specific bits you liked or hated, or did I make a typo? 
> 
> Let me know!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Nine have a talk, and then have a run-in with some unfriendly faces...

The elevator descended with an ominous rumble, and Donna shoved a hand in her pocket to touch the Sonic Screwdriver. Just to know it was still there, that she still had something of his to use.

Some knowledge that, like all her adventures with this madman, things would turn out okay in the end.

She looked over at the broody Northerner next to her, taking in the bulky shape of him; he was so different from the man she knew, and yet.

He carried himself in a manner that screamed confidence and authority, he knew how to work the sonic screwdriver, and Jack and Rose called him Doctor. Frankly, that was enough for Donna. This man- despite all logic and sense screaming otherwise- was The Doctor. And since he didn’t know anything about her or how her Doctor dressed, he was clearly from the past.

So that left her musing on Jack’s plan. Change the past, change the future, wake her Doctor up.

Donna bit her lip. Said plan was harebrained, but it was worth a shot. She should at least TRY to talk to this other Doctor, try to get him to at least THINK about his feelings for Rose. If _her_ Doctor was any indication, this bloke had a well of affection for that little blonde that could drown the Racnoss queen. And he’d sooner take a fire axe to his TARDIS than admit it.

Eh, fuck it.

Worth a shot.

“Doctor,” she said, because why pussyfoot around the issue when you could just bash through it and get it over with, “Have you ever said anything to Rose?”

“About what?” he asked, looking up from the data slate with a frown.

“About the fact that you’re so obviously smitten with her that I, someone who barely knows you two, can see it?”

The minute the words left Donna’s mouth, she cringed internally. This was a stupid idea, and she was not as smooth as Jack. And she knew it.

The Doctor snorted.

“Jack put you up to this, eh?” he said, rubbing his forehead, “Should’ve known that was what he was up to, dragging you off like that…”

“Why?”

“He’s been riding my arse for weeks now,” the Doctor grumbled, “Trying to get me to tell Rose about how I feel an’ whatnot.”

He shook his head, and Donna put a hand on his shoulder.

“So why haven’t you?” she asked, looking him in those piercing blue eyes.

The Doctor snorted.

“For a start? For a start, she doesn’t feel the same,” he said flatly, “an’- Why am I telling you this? I don’t even KNOW you yet…”

“You will, though,” Donna said, “And I- you’re my mate. I mean, you will be. My best mate. And I can see you’re hurting.”

The Doctor sighed.

“It doesn’t matter if I tell you,” he said, “I’m going to forget all this anyway…”

“Well, at least get it off your chest. Even if you forget it, it’ll make you feel better.” Donna said, patting the worn leather again. Where HAD he found that jacket? A skip? And why would he have to forget- oh, right. Time travel.

The Doctor looked at her, weariness in his blue eyes, and muttered something.

“What was that?”

“I said…I can’t…It doesn’t matter,” He muttered, rubbing his face, “An’ I don’t wanna hurt her.”

Donna rolled her eyes and pulled the Doctor in for a hug.

“Listen to yourself,” she chided him, “Rose isn’t some delicate flower you need to keep in a glass case. She’s not going to wither and die because you told her how you feel. And besides, anyone with a working pair of eyes can see that she’s just as smitten with you as you are with her. Just tell her, you idiot.”

“I’m going to outlive her,” he said quietly, “I’m going to lose her. I don’t-“

“How’s that go again? ‘Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’, or something like that? And in any case, I’m sick of dealing with broody mopey aliens. Buck up and tell her while you’ve got the chance, you twit.”

The Doctor, despite himself, grinned a bit at that.

“Tennyson? Didn’t think you were the type.”

“Gramps used to read it to me, so. Not really my thing, but I know a bit of verse.” Donna pulled away and shrugged. “But seriously, Doctor. Just pull her aside and spit it out. Stop running away.”

He snorted. “You_ do_ know who you’re talking to, right?”

Donna paused.

“Yeah, no, on reflection, telling you not to run away is like telling the sun not to rise in the morning.” Donna said with a dismissive headshake.

The Doctor grinned, chuckling a little.

“Maybe you DO know me,” he said, “now there’s a surprise…”

“But I am being serious,” she said, punching him in the arm, “Just…spit it out, will you?”

The Doctor looked at her despairingly.

“I wish it was that easy, Donna.” he sighed.

“I know, sp- I know, Doctor. I know.”

If he’d caught the word swap, her taking the nickname back, he didn’t say anything about it.

They stood in silence for a moment, before the Doctor looked at her.

“You- you’re not bothered about the- different faces?” he said quietly, “Rose was- she wanted a full explanation, an’ I’m not sure she’s happy about it…”

Donna shrugged. “You proved you were the Doctor when you worked his sonic screwdriver. Only he can remember all the trillion settings on it. And I’m not bothered- I’m pretty sure I know how you’ve got two faces, anyhow.”

“Oh?” The Doctor folded his arms and quirked an eyebrow, “This I need to hear.”

Donna gestured at his head.

“I bet “The Doctor” is actually just some funny brain parasite. I bet you’re just in Northern Bloke because you needed a body, and when he starts to go off, you’ll hop into my Doctor. I bet that’s your secret.”

The Doctor’s grin widened.

“Good guess. Wrong, but good guess! I’m writing that one down. Alien brain parasite…”

“Well, if that’s wrong, then you’re probably just a little… like an Adipose, you know? Something small like that, and you’re wearing Northern Bloke like a suit. That’s the other possibility. And then you shrink him in the wash or somethin’ and you put on the suit that looks like my Doctor, and THAT’S how you change faces. It also explains why you look so bloody human!”

The Doctor was giggling, now, thoroughly amused.

“Another good guess! And also wrong.”

Donna folded her arms.

“Well, what’s the real answer, then? You can shapeshift?”

“Sort of, yeah.” The Doctor said smugly. He opened his mouth to continue the explanation, only for the lift to slow down.

“Almost there. I’ll tell you later, then.” He said, whipping out the data slate and examining deck 5’s layout, “Job to do.”

Donna nodded, making a mental note to press either this bloke or her Doctor for answers on the skinwalker thing.

The lift rumbled to a stop, and the doors slid open with a DING. Donna followed the Doctor out; they were in a hallway that went in both directions, but instead of connecting to another corridor, this one lead to a large open space.

Donna grabbed the Doctor’s arm, fingers digging into the worn leather, and wordlessly yanked him back.

He opened his mouth to ask her what the hell she was doing, glancing up from the map on his data slate, only to follow her pointing finger straight to what she’d seen.

“Oh,” he said, voice very, very quiet.

“What the fuck are those?!” Donna hissed, taking in the strange machines rolling around the large space. The Cargo Bay, according to the map; it was two stories tall and vast like a school gymnasium, dotted with dusty crates and other pieces of machinery. A force field covered a hole into space, stars twinkling an eternity away, walled off from them by a thin membrane of glowing blue.

The cargo bay, which according to the Doctor’s data slate, also contained access to the main medical mainframe, for reasons known only to the spaceship’s designers.

And rolling around the cargo area, milling around mindlessly, were a bunch of robots.

They were tall, about seven feet or so; they were built with a treaded base, like an earthmover or a backhoe. The flat platform with the treads had an upright backing board that extended up the full height of the robot; and attached to the top of the bulky rectangular spine was a rounded outline that looked like a human face with no features. A smooth steel plate on a smooth steel skull, crudely fixed to a chassis. Some lights glowed from where the eyes might have been; like it wasn’t as blind as it looked.

The main concern, however, was the arms. There were six of them, lined down the length of its upright spine; all of them looked like tentacles, somewhat. A wide base, tapering off to a thin tip, and as they waved around, the material they were made of crunched and squeaked like it was filled with air.

Donna was about to ask what these things were for, when one of them- a good fifty feet away- turned so they could see its front.

Down the center column was cushioning, patterned after a body board. Meant to absorb the impact and securely hold a person in place. Both the Doctor and Donna sucked in a breath and froze in place when the robot turned their way, only exhaling when it turned away and rolled off someplace else.

“What the hell are those?!” Donna hissed.

“I don’t know,” the Doctor rumbled, “An’ I’m not sure I want to find out.”

“Can they see us?!” Donna hissed, shuddering, “I don’t want to get grabbed by one of those-“

“I don’t think they have cameras,” the Doctor said, “They look kinda cheap, and image recognition software costs money…they might be…Give me a sec.”

He reached into his pocket, rummaging around, and pulled out a banana.

“A banana?!” Donna hissed, “That’s your big plan? A bloody banana?!”

“Yep. Don’t knock it. Good source of-“

“Potassium, yes, I know. My Doctor’s waxed lyrical about them enough already to fill a library,” Donna said with a groan, “Anyway, what’s the genius plan with a banana?”

The Doctor edged close to the end of the hallway, taking care to move slowly and quietly. A large crate was about ten paces ahead, slightly blocking their view of half the hangar on the left side; where the medical mainframe was lurking. But in a large open area, off to the right, several machines were milling about, and the Doctor was looking right at them.

And then he chucked it as hard as he could.

It was a perfect throw; the banana hit the ground right behind all the robots and bounced, landing somewhere else.

The machines responded instantly, swarming around the banana as through they were tracking its movements, following the arc as it bounced and then skidded across the floor.

“Please remain calm,” the machines chorused in unison as they followed the banana, “All will be well. Please relax and we will take care of you.”

“Motion sensors, then,” the Doctor rumbled, quickly pressing himself against the wall, “Of course. Reckon we’re going to have to sneak past.”

“Oh, that’s just bloody brilliant,” Donna muttered, “Sneaking past evil robots. Great.”

“Now!” the Doctor hissed, grabbing Donna’s hand and ignoring her muffled yelp. The robots were all busy examining the banana and spouting off their meaningless comforting lines. The Doctor dragged her down the hall and into the shadow of the first crate, stopping to catch their breath. He peeked around the corner- the swarm of robots was still there, but they were starting to disperse.

Peeked around the other side of the steel crate to see a few more random bits and bobs scattered across the wide empty cargo bay. Against the far left wall, arching up to the ceiling, was a massive rectangular wall, almost the width of the cargo bay. It looked like someone had taken a white building and jammed it into the room, taking up the entire far side of the cargo area. At the bottom of the big mainframe was a door with a lock for a swipecard beside it.

A room for controlling the medical mainframe built right into it. With a door with a lock on it.

“Fantastic,” he muttered, scanning the room to try and find the best route.

Donna shifted beside him, keeping an eye on the robots. They were moving away from the banana, and she jabbed the Doctor in the shoulder, making a muffled squeak to tip him off to that fact.

Up ahead and to the left was a crate containing a load of oxygen cannisters or something, and with the whirring of treads in the air, the Doctor lunged out from their tenuous cover and stampeded across the floor. Donna’s shoes slapped the ground behind him, and he could hear the hammering of her heart in her chest. The two of them hit the crate just in time, pressing themselves against the side the machines couldn’t see; they were both facing the mainframe, just fifty paces or so from the door.

The Doctor looked to his right; the right wall with the force field, which ended about a hundred feet behind them. The wall was lined with charging docks for the robots, all empty; and in front of said charging docks was another crate. The last bit of cover between them and the mainframe door.

The Doctor grabbed Donna’s hand and jerked his head, the whirring of treads deafening behind them, and they bolted towards the last bit of cover.

Work boots stamped across the dusty floors, eyes locked on the safety of the last steel crate; they hadn’t been seen yet, somehow, some way-

Pressing up against the side of it, facing the wall of empty charging docks, the Doctor paused to let Donna catch her breath. She was panting heavily, heart hammering, and trembling a bit.

“Can they hear us?” Donna hissed, turning to look back towards the robots. They were milling around, now, but some of them were starting to roll closer-

“Don’t think so,” the Doctor replied, “I think they’re deaf-“

He stopped when he realized that one of the robots was rolling towards the mainframe doors. Their window of opportunity was closing, and fast.

He pulled out his sonic screwdriver, twisted it to change the setting for electronic locks, and booked it across the smooth black floor. Donna’s voice rang out in his ears, and he thought she was following him-

A dozen inhumanly long strides brought him to the door, skidding to a stop and nearly smacking his side into the glass. His hands were shaking- the sound of motors and treads echoed off the smooth white wall he was pressed against, a tinny robotic voice going _please remain calm all will be well we are here to assist you please remain-_

Buzzed the lock.

Didn’t fucking open-

“Shit, shit, shit, shit shit SHIT-“ he muttered under his breath, twisting it to another setting and buzzing the keycard lock, and it flashed green and beeped and the door swung open in his peripheral vision-

“DOCTOR! BEHIND YOU!” Donna screamed across the hangar.

The Doctor whipped his head up and ice-blue eyes locked onto themselves, reflected in the faceplate of one of the machines.

“Oh FUCK-“

The arms lunged for him, and he tried to dodge, but they were so, so fast- one of them latched around his wrist, just the tip, the feeling of inflated nylon pressing against his skin. An inflatable core over steel-strong micromotors, ripping him off his feet and into its embrace-

The inflatable arm yanked him forwards, other arms curving for him, and he tried to wrench his arm free, banging the knuckles of his free hand on the wall behind-

Another one grabbed his leg, and the panic creeped up as it yanked him forwards, arms fucking everywhere, catching his other wrist, and now he was caught, digging in his heels-

**_“FUCK!”_** the Doctor screeched in terror, “FUCK, NO, FUCK OFF, **_FUCK OFF!” _**

The arms pulled him in, panic and terror as he felt his face crushing into the soft foam, the smell of dust and chemicals and polymers, and the inflatable nylon was firming up, pressing him in, and he couldn’t- get his other hand free- couldn’t reach his sonic-

The tinfoil and the beanie fell off his head and crunched somewhere under the robot’s treads, which sent a sliver of ice-cold terror stabbing through his hearts, no, NO, NO-

He was screaming, now, in his mother tongue; the swearing like smashing wine glasses with a hammer, the pleas like bashing a bass guitar into the stage in a fury, and terror slammed through his veins, kicking his hearts into overdrive-

A red blur to the left, and a voice like an avenging angel-

“OH NO YOU_ **FUCKING**_ DON’T!” Donna screamed, leaping towards them with her Doctor’s sonic screwdriver in hand. It was buzzing, and the Doctor didn’t know what this mad human was planning, but the robot was moving, and, and-

Donna jumped up and stabbed at the back of it, stabbed at the arms, wielding the sonic like a knife or a machete, hatred and fury blazing in her eyes. And the robot-

Sparks burst out of the back, its tinny voice petering off into garbled warps and screams. The pressure on his body loosened all at once, air bleeding out of the inflatable bags, and the Doctor tumbled from its embrace and into the waiting arms of his future self’s fire-spitting human.

The robot wheeled away, the treads the only part of it that weren’t sparking and malfunctioning; it tore back at a truly frightening speed, ramming into some crates and tearing off like a blind chicken in a pen with a fox.

The commotion hadn’t gone unnoticed, and the other robots were streaking towards them-

Donna grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to his feet, shoving him through the open door behind them and slamming it behind them with a half-second to spare.

The Doctor held the door closed, frantically buzzing the lock.

The robots pounded on the door, but it held fast; they weren’t getting through.

They both sank to the floor, backs to the wall, listening to the repeated cries of _Please remain calm all will be well please remain calm we will transport you to safety shortly please remain calm _echoing through the door.

“Oh, God,” Donna gasped, and to the Doctor’s shock, she grabbed his hand and twined their fingers together.

“Don’t DO that to me, spaceman.” She whispered.

He smiled crookedly at her.

“Thought I was Manchester,” he said, “An’ your Doctor was the spaceman?”

Donna groaned and let go of his hand, punching him in the shoulder.

They both sat there for a few moments, breathing.

It dawned on both of them that they were now trapped in a very tiny room, with a horde of angry robots just beyond the door, between them and escape.

“So,” Donna said quietly, “What now?”

The Doctor looked around the room and stood up.

“Now? Now, we start meddling.” He said with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, it's my birthday today! And you know what I want? Comments. Pls. But seriously, if you loved it, hated it, think I fucked up, or want the Brain Parasite Doctor to eat my brains instead, let me know in the comments! 
> 
> Any bits you loved or hated? 
> 
> Also, brace yourselves: We're in for it now...


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Nine are pinned down, but at least they can start helping Ten...right?
> 
> Warning for some non-graphic mention of needles in this chapter, as advised by my great beta Kippysaurus.

The lab wasn’t terribly large, but it was tiled all in white and had benches with computers on them lining all the walls. At the far end of the room, facing the door, was an uncomfortable-looking chair with one of those horrible helmets dangling from wires, suspended from the ceiling. Underneath the chair, Donna noted dimly, was a simple plastic bucket, covered in dust.

The Doctor took one look at it and stepped by, buzzing every terminal with his sonic to wake them all up and peering intently at the words on the screens.

As he did that, Donna walked around, making her own observations.

That hum was back. The same hum that had been in the ship’s bridge, and it was even more pervasive in this smaller lab.

Donna followed the hum across the room, towards a place where a table had once rested against the wall; said table had been thrown aside, leaving just a blank white wall, emitting an ominous hum.

She looked down- along the bottom of the wall, about level with the decorative mouldings (what the fuck, why was THAT on a spaceship-) was the same faint blue glow she’d seen on the bridge. It was harder to see with the floodlights overhead, but- it was there.

The Doctor had glanced over towards the door, a pause in his sonick-ing tipping her off to the fact.

Donna followed his gaze to the glass door of the lab. The eleven robots were sitting outside- those were probably the Orderlies, now that she thought about it.

All of them were still standing there expectantly. Waiting.

They knew there was movement inside the lab, and they knew that their quarry would have to leave eventually.

Eleven on two was no contest.

“What do we do?!” Donna asked, gesturing at the robots, “We’re trapped!”

“Nothing. Nothing yet, at least.” The Doctor said, “We stay here where it’s safe. We wake up my future self, an’ he comes down with my TARDIS an’ gives us all a lift back up top. Rose stays safe, an’ everything’s perfect. That’s the plan.”

Donna stared at him, knowing full well that this plan was not going to work, because the universe hated him. And she also chose not to comment on the specific mention of Rose and how she would be safe.

That, Donna felt, was something she’d already covered.

The Doctor, having convinced himself that this was a sound plan, turned to the computer he’d awoken. It was the one right next to the chair with the skullcap, and he started fiddling with it.

Donna ambled back to the wall, fishing her Doctor’s sonic out of her pocket.

“What setting d’you reckon it’s on right now?” she asked.

“Hmm? Yours?” he turned to look at the screwdriver in her hands, “Uh, shorting out electronics, that’d be… 42.3 dash Peach dash twelve.”

Donna nodded, making a mental note of the setting, and running her fingertips over the smooth wall.

“What’s the one for making electronic locks disengage?” she asked, fiddling with the collar.

“14.4 dash Crisps dash Seven. Why?”

Donna twiddled through the various settings, hoping she was doing it right.

“What’s with all your settings and food names, anyway?”

“S’ a good way of groupin’ them! All the unlocky ones are all junk food, all the ones to short out electronics are peach-themed, all the-“

“You were hungry when you assigned the settings, weren’t you.”

“…May have been.” The Doctor growled, turning back to his computer and hammering away at the keyboard.

Donna examined the wall and gave it a little buzz with the sonic screwdriver.

“Wrong setting,” the Doctor called, “Doesn’t sound right. Set it again, small adjustments. 14.3 Crisps dash Seven.”

Donna twiddled the knob, and gave the wall another buzzing prod.

“I’d ask why you’re attempting to resonate sheetrock, but m’not sure I want the answer,” he muttered, hammering at the keyboard, “I’m in. This bloke was not the brightest bulb. His password was literally “Password.”

Donna snorted, continuing to wave her sonic at the wall.

“Nice to know that people are still people,” she said, “Don’t know how I’d cope if lazy temps didn’t exist on spaceships, too. I’d be out of a bloody job, I would.”

The Doctor chuckled, and set about messing around with…whatever it was he was doing.

Donna found a seam in the weird material of the wall, and ran the sonic over it. Something was behind this wall, and she wanted to know what. When she pressed a hand to the wall, she could feel it vibrating, and it was off-tempo with the vibrations from the rest of the ship.

“Bollocks!” the Doctor spat from somewhere over by the computer, “I can’t wake him up from here. I- one of us is going to have to go in there. This computer’s enough to get Pinstripes out, but it’s got no connection to the databanks…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Donna asked, knocking the wall with her knuckles. It sounded hollow. There was definitely something back there.

The Doctor huffed.

“I can’t switch it off from out here.” He said, “The simulation is coded to only respond to requests to shut off coming from the inside. We’re outside that simulated world, so it won’t switch off just because I tell it to. Probably a safety feature or something like that…keep some poor bastard from getting lobotomized. But we CAN still wake him up, it’s just…not going to be pleasant.”

“Not pleasant how, exactly?” Donna asked, looking up from the wall.

“That helmet there,” he said, gesturing at it, “Is the administrator’s terminal. We can send someone in there- into the simulation- an’ they can tamper with the simulation the mainframe is running for future-me. That’s easy enough.”

Donna nodded sagely.

She ran her nail down the seam and started to buzz it with the sonic.

“Well, can you- set it up to get my Doctor out, then,” she said, “I’ve had it with this voyage of the damned an’ these stupid fucking robots and all this- this-“ she waved her hand, “fucking evil bullshit.”

The Doctor nodded and returned to his monitor, hammering away and clicking a few things.

Donna returned her attention to the wall. She tracked the screwdriver down the seam and pressed her ear to the cool white material, listening. 

The buzzing was louder, now, but then-

CLUNK.

Something snapped into place, and she jerked her hand up and ran the screwdriver over that spot again.

CLUNK.

“Something’s- there’s something back here,” she said, “I think I unlocked something-“

She pulled back and gave the middle of the wall another buzzing poke, and then-

The Doctor jerked his head up with wide eyes as latches in the wall disengaged with audible CLANKs. Motors began to whine, and the pure white panel slid upwards into the ceiling with an audible hiss, like they were disengaging a seal.

“What the FUCK am I looking at?!” Donna managed to splutter, the second she’d gotten her voice back.

The Doctor got up from his chair, leaving whatever he was doing still running in the background, and stepped over.

“That,” he said quietly, “Is the guts of the mainframe.”

The space behind the wall contained banks of computers, swaddled in a blue glow from a field that covered them all. Ice grew on the floor at the margins of the field; like it was frigidly cold in there. Red and green lights winked out at them, and the Doctor set his eyes on the keypad and screen that had slid out of a slot in the wall.

He smiled at her then, a big, wide-faced, genuinely cheerful grin, “Fantastic! Brilliant work, Donna. How’d you know it was there?”

Donna shrugged. “The hum, the glow. There’s another up in the bridge. What’s with the weird glow, anyway?”

“Cooling, if I had to guess,” the Doctor said, “Computers make a lot of heat. Start running simulations meant to engage a human brain an’ they’ll generate a LOT of heat. That’s probably close to the ambient temperature of space in there.”

“So, can you…? Can you get him out from there? Shut down the simulation?” Donna gestured at the mainframe, “What do you want to do?”

The Doctor scratched his chin.

“Give me a minute.” He walked back to the computer he’d initially been fiddling with, selecting a few options and typing something in, then clicking, and-

“That’s done it,” he said as Donna ambled over to stand next to the helmet, “I’ve got it all set up.”

Just as Donna was about to tell him to get on with it and send her in there already, the Doctor stepped away from the computer.

He wandered over to the mainframe and started to fuss with the terminal there, prodding at a few things and typing on the keyboard. Donna stared at him incredulously, eyes looking at the silver skullcap. She traced her fingers over the helmet, half-listening to the daft alien type.

Her fingertips scored tracks in the dust coating it. Everything was dusty. Everything had been abandoned.

What the fuck had happened here?

And more importantly, who gave a shit, her Doctor was still balls-deep in a nightmare world and having his brain jabbed with pins. And Leather Fetish, in a further display of proof that he was indeed The Doctor, had gotten _distracted._

“Doctor!” she called, “Look, I know you’re busy being clever over there, but we’re still fucking trapped, and my Doctor’s still having his skull bashed in by an evil computer, yeah? So can we maybe take care of that, and then you can…do whatever it is you’re doing?”

The Doctor grunted, taking a step back.

“Well, Donna,” he said, “I suppose we could give that a try. I suppose we could just charge in there blind an’ I could just stick my brain into a simulation without knowing a bloody thing about it. I suppose that’s fine. But I’d prefer to look over the documentation first, learn a little about the program, that alright?” he gave her a grin that was just dripping in sarcasm and smugness and quit-being-such-a-fucking-ape-thanks-awfully.

“You really are _The_ bloody Doctor,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead- and then one of his statements caught her attention.

“Hold on. YOUR brain?” she echoed, “You’re going in there?” she jabbed her thumb at the helmet for emphasis, eyes agog.

“Uh, yeah,” the Doctor said without looking up, “Was thinking I would, yeah. Got a problem with that?”

“YES. Yes I bloody well do. Listen to yourself! You’re the only one in this room who knows how to work these bloody computers- I can’t even READ the fucking letters on the keyboards, let alone know what to type on them! You’re going to stick your brain in there and leave me out here twiddling my thumbs? What if you get stuck in there or something? Are you ACTUALLY mad?!”

The Doctor paused, considering this new influx of common sense.

“Yes,” he replied, “I am, actually, very mad indeed. The maddest, me. So I-“

“I am NOT letting you go in there,” Donna snarled, “You’re past Him, yeah? You die or get trapped in that machine, He- MY Doctor- he doesn’t exist anymore. And I’m not some galaxy-brained alien, I know, I know I’m just some daft human girl, but even I can tell that that’s going to cause problems. If you get trapped in that simulation, if you start screaming blue bloody murder, I’ll be trapped out here and I won’t be able to help you.”

“Well,” the Doctor growled, “What do you want me to do about it?!”

Donna folded her arms.

“I’m going in.”

He stared at her, eyes agog.

“You-“

“I know him better than you,” she snapped, “I know him. He’s MY Doctor. And if I go in, you’ll be out here and able to pull me out if something goes wrong. It’s the only sensible option. Now quit starin’ at me like I’ve got a second head and finish reading your bloody documentation so I can rescue my mate already!”

Donna sucked in a breath- she was shaking. She blinked back a few tears that were threatening to spill. All of this was immensely stressful, and despite her best attempts to keep it together for her idiot alien mate, the cracks were starting to show.

Leather-Doctor nodded and continued to scroll through whatever document he’d found, examining it closely.

“Alright,” he announced, “I think I’ve got it. I-“ he turned to look at her, eyes full of concern as his voice faltered.

“…It’s going to be painful,” he said quietly, “Very. I can-“

“No.” Donna growled, glaring daggers at him, “I can take a little pain. It’s fine. Now what’s going to happen when I go into this thing?”

She sat down in the chair by way of an argument-ender, reaching up and pulling off her tinfoil hat and the beanie to go with it. Her scalp was damp with perspiration- those things trapped a lot of heat, and it had started to get bloody uncomfortable under there. She set it down on the table beside her, eyes falling on the Doctor’s black-brown hair.

He had no tinfoil hat.

Not after it had fallen off outside.

Donna shuddered, and her eyes flicked up to look at the shiny steel helmet on its cable. And only then did she notice the holes in the underside- a smooth metal sheet full of round spaces.

And gleaming from every single one was a needle.

Donna gulped.

The Doctor tromped over, huffing out a sigh and looking nervous.

“You’ll go into the simulation,” he said, “you’ll be half in his mind and half in the computer. You’ll have a little thing strapped to your wrist- that’s the console. You can use that to tamper with the simulation, alter the world an’ whatnot. The documentation I saw said that there should be an option to terminate it from inside…mind you, it was the main build of the program, an’ there was some stuff about some experimental builds they were running, but-“ he shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You go in there, wake him up, an’ I’ll get you out as soon as you have.”

“And how will you know…?” she said, quirking an eyebrow.

He gestured at the program on the computer screen.

“I’ll be able to see what you’re doing from here. Hear you, too. I’ll keep in contact. Check your console for messages.”

Donna looked up at the helmet nervously.

“Okay,” she said, “You’re sure there wasn’t- wasn’t anything in the mainframe that could wake him up…?”

The Doctor shook his head sadly. “I looked. It’s this or nothin’. The only other way to terminate the program prematurely is if he-“

The Doctor swallowed.

“Is if he kills himself in there.”

Donna’s eyes went wide.

“An’ he’s probably not going to do that,” the Doctor added hastily, “It’s- it’s meant to create a perfect, uh, a perfect sort of, world. So he won’t- he won’t want to. I’m sure. So-“

He shook his head and pulled the seat back, sitting down in it and looking at her nervously.

“Donna, are you SURE you don’t want me to-“

“Shut up and get me in there,” she snapped, “I don’t have time for this and neither does he.”

Donna grabbed the helmet and pulled it down, letting it rest loosely against her head. The coolness of the metal where it rested against her hair was unnerving; it was also really rather heavy. The cable just unreeled from the wall a little to adjust to her height- putting up little resistance.

The Doctor gulped.

“Get in there,” he said sternly, “Find the command to terminate the program, shut it off, and get OUT. Got it?”

Donna nodded.

“Right. I’ve set you up with this bloke’s credentials, So you should- nevermind.”

He tapped a key to start whatever it was, and then, on impulse, reached out and grabbed Donna’s hand.

His hands were cool and calloused. These ones were bigger and rougher than what she was used to, wider fingers and scarred palms, no trace of her Doctor’s thin fingers and delicate touch.

Then he squeezed, and she knew, she knew in her heart of hearts that they were the same man.

There was a SHNNNNK as the steel pins slid out of their sheaths, and Donna screeched as they embedded themselves into her scalp- like a hundred wasps had just stung her all at once, and, oh fuck, oh FUCK-

A jolt of electricity slammed into her skull, arcing, burning, the heat like touching the surface of a star for a fraction of a second, and-

Everything went black.

* * *

Donna opened her eyes.

She was standing on her street. At home. That was her house, there, and parked next to it on the sidewalk by the back gate was the Doctor’s TARDIS.

The smell of grilling meat filled the air, like there’d been a cookout or something in progress.

Which had been clearly interrupted by the big alien ship parked in the street.

Donna looked around at her person, noticing immediately that she wasn’t wearing her usual clothes. She was dressed in a skintight black jumpsuit, and strapped to her right forearm was a strange device- like a long wristband, with a glowing screen built into it.

She tapped on the screen- the words ADMIN CONSOLE popped up on it.

Right. From here, she could control and modify the simulation.

A message popped up on the screen under the green button to enter.

_Donna, _it read, _can you find the button to shut it down?_

She huffed out a sigh of relief. The Other-Doctor was watching from the monitor outside.

“I’m looking,” she said, tapping the green button to enter the console and fiddling around with it.

It was a scrolling menu of options, and she scrolled through them, looking for “SaveMyStupidTimeLord.EXE”.

_Might be under T for Terminate Simulation, _popped up in a little window to the side of the list. Donna nodded.

T…T… Texture modifiers, Topography tweaks, Thought…control….

Donna shuddered.

And there, at the bottom in red, was a button reading TERMINATE SIMULATION.

She tapped on it- and was immediately hit with two boxes to input a username and password.

REMOTE TERMINATION DURING TREATMENT REQUIRES AUTHORIZATION OF PATIENT’S DOCTOR. DOCTOR WILL SET USERNAME AND PASSWORD FOR REMOTE TERMINATION OF SESSION.

[NAME_UNKNOWN]’S DOCTOR IS: [DOCTOR_NOT_FOUND.]

CONTACT I.T. SUPPORT FOR ASSISTANCE.

“Oh, FUCK!” Donna shouted, “I can’t terminate it. Says it- says it needs a username and password from his doctor, but he hasn’t GOT one because- because they’re all fucking dead!”

Donna was shaking.

_Not good, _a little box popped up, _find him and see if you can figure out why he was screaming. If we can’t wake him up yet we can at least keep him safe until I’ve hacked into the mainframe and made some fake doctor’s credentials. _

“Fine, fine, whatever.” Donna started walking forwards, watching as a ramp descended from the alien ship and a door slid open.

Some strange creatures stepped out, and she quirked an eyebrow. One of them was holding a pair of swords.

Her console flashed, and she looked at it expectantly.

_Donna, what simulation number is he running? Can you check that? Should be under general, about, and then software version. I need to know._

Donna tapped through the options the Doctor requested, and then examined it.

“Says it’s…Experimental Build 15,” she said slowly, “What’s that mean?”

_OH FUCK._

Donna frowned. “What’s the problem?”

There was a long pause before the next message appeared- he’d probably gone over to the mainframe to check something.

_I’ve got the documentation open…we _**can’t** _terminate this build remotely. _

Donna scowled. “Well, why not?!”

And as the Doctor was typing, a strange humming caught her attention. The aliens that had stepped down from the ship just MELTED the fence, and were walking towards the party inside. And she could hear the Doctor prattling away, trying to get them to talk-

The console beeped, and she looked down at it.

_This build is an experimental one designed to, quote, ‘rapidly modify existing behaviour patterns.’ And it can’t be remotely terminated. They’ve set it up to disable termination by an administrator. There’s one way to prematurely terminate it, and that’s if he- if he kills himself. It’ll auto-boot him from the system._

“So what do we do?”

_Get out of there. I don’t know what we can do. I’m trying everything over here._

Donna was about to comply, when the Doctor- HER Doctor- screamed out her name.

There was a sound, like guns firing and steel hitting bone-

“DOCTOR!” she screamed, running towards the chaos in desperation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I've got more chapters in the backlog, so it's an early update! Look forward to more soonish. Thanks for all the birthday wishes, guys! Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. 
> 
> Also, here's to 100 kudos! That's never happened to me before. Thanks so much for all the support! 
> 
> Anyway, as per usual, if you loved it, if you hated it, if you want me to stick my brain in an inverted pincushion helmet, leave a comment! I read them all and they really brighten my day. What bits did you like? 
> 
> Worried about Ten? You should be...


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten does a graceful swan dive off the deep end. 
> 
> Donna's got some objections to that.

Donna’s body was lying on the grass. 

She wasn’t moving.

And something- something-

Everyone was screaming, Jack had his gun out, the Tauran was stalking forwards, blood on its blade, red human blood-

Bright human blood was still welling up from Donna’s chest, leaking out from her too-still corpse-

And- and the Doctor-

Something, something outside himself jabbed at his brain. Something distant, something that wasn’t him, something other, something cold and cruel and calculating. It reached into the back of his mind and found the cage where he kept the monster the War had made him into, and it snapped off the padlock.

Anger, hate, fury, they poured into him from places he couldn’t name, somewhere outside himself; the Oncoming Storm slammed through the door of its cage, sinking its claws into him and dragging him down into the sea of churning hate. Sparks jolted from his fingertips, eyes gleaming shades of red and gold; Cloister bells pealed like claps of thunder, and everything narrowed down to a knife’s edge of singular purpose.

Donna was dead.

The Taurans had killed Donna.

**They would be punished. **

Time was spiralling all around him, and all concern or care or restraint had been blasted out the airlock. The Oncoming Storm didn’t care about morals, it didn’t care about lives, it didn’t care about sentience, _it didn’t fucking care about anything. _

The UNIT personnel were screaming with weapons drawn, the Taurans were lunging at him, and the Doctor had officially left the building and slammed the door on his way out.

The Oncoming Storm was in the driver’s seat, and there was a damn good reason the Doctor never gave that thing the keys.

The pitched battle, the entire world around him, slowed to a crawl. Time was relative, and he could speed or slow time as it flowed around him, altering his own personal time stream just a little. And right then, he’d sped himself up, the world crawling all around him as time flowed differently around its remaining Lord. Planets and other massive objects dragged on time, slowing it down, manipulating it; Time Lords could too, in moments of grave peril or desperation. 

The first Tauran raised up its sword, intending to swing it down on him. The Doctor sneered, watching it crawl downwards in slow-motion. He stepped out of the way, a casual little step, and then grabbed the crawling arm by the wrist and jerked it around, pivoting it at the elbow. The silver blade flashed, his strength easily overpowering the stunned Tauran; the poor fucker was crawling along ten seconds behind the Doctor and in slow-motion.

The sword plunged deep into the Tauran’s midriff, and the Doctor momentarily snapped out of his frenzy when red blood welled up from the wound.

Red blood.

Red.

WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!

Taurans didn’t use hemoglobin, they used hemocyanin- their blood was _blue,_ their blood wasn’t red in the air, it was-

Then another wave of that cold, clinical hate slammed into him and dragged him back out to sea, and higher thought spiralled down into the murky depths with it.

Cold pleasure, cold satisfaction, and it was flooding his mind, this unnatural feeling of joy at having slain his foe; and the Doctor shuddered involuntarily, even as a cruel, cruel smile crawled onto his face from somewhere he couldn't name. It felt_ good._ As the Tauran's body fell towards the grass, a wave of satisfaction, of warmth and giddiness crawled down his spine; the taste of it was metallic and artificial, like it was being shoved into him through an IV drip.

_Why did it feel **so good?**_

He’d never felt _joy_ when he was like this. The Oncoming Storm didn’t _do _pleasure; it did punishment. It did vengeance.

The Oncoming Storm didn’t _feel _anything that wasn’t fury.

Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.

And then another wave of cold, metallic hate hit him and that thought washed out with the tide.

He ripped the blade out, prising the handle from the dying Tauran’s hands, and turned to face the next one. It was preparing to shoot at Martha, setting the gun to something that wasn’t “melt” and slowly swinging it into position.

He walked over to it in a few brisk steps, raised his sword up, and hacked its arm clean off.

Blood slowly sprayed from the wound as the hand clutching the gun tumbled towards the Earth, and for an encore the Doctor tripped the Tauran, sending it toppling helmet-first into the ground.

A shiver of that same sticky, artificial satisfaction welled up inside him, and- the Doctor shuddered, his face contorting. Something about it felt gross and wrong; it evoked the scent of antiseptic and- and-

And he tried to think about it, his head breaking the surface of the dark black ocean, just for an instant, just for a breath. And another wave of hate and joy tangled themselves up in his mind, and dragged him down into the depths, the Tauran’s **_wrong_** red blood sparkling in the sunshine like gorgeous red rain.

The last one was stalking towards Rose and Mickey, and he could see the looks of frozen terror on their faces. It too had a gun- a much larger cannon, that was flinging bolts of energy across the yard. The bolts were moving at half their usual speed- which was still terrifyingly quick compared to the crawl the world had been reduced to.

UNIT members got hit and collapsed to the earth, their central nervous systems burned out-

_Hang on, the Taurans didn’t use that kind of gun, now or ever, they thought it was far too cruel- _

Cold hate jabbed his brain again, images of Daleks and burning silver cities and Donna’s blood on the grass filling his vision, and he rounded on the last Tauran without a shred of mercy.

* * *

Donna rounded the corner and looked past the fence, a scene of pure chaos unfolding before her.

She saw her own body lying on the grass, not moving, which, yeah, that wasn’t good at all. And then there was the Doctor, _her Doctor, _clutching a bloodstained alien sword and stalking towards a blue-skinned creature that was holding Fake Rose and some boy Rose’s age at gunpoint.

Donna ran towards him, watching as he slashed off one of the alien’s arms; the arm fell in slow motion, bloody flying away in a crawl, and then the other one came off-

Her eyes went wide when she realized that he wasn’t done, that he was going to kill the alien. He rolled his shoulders as the alien turned towards him at a crawl, and-

Donna lunged at him, intending to tackle him to the ground.

And to her shock, she phased clean through him- like she wasn’t even there. She landed on the grass, eyes wide, getting up and lunging again- and phasing through him like a ghost with a faint crackle. He didn’t even twitch, didn’t even respond, like he didn’t even know she was there-

The sound of air hissing and a strangled alien scream had her eyes snapping up to the creature- where the Doctor had just slashed the hosepipe on the back of its helmet, and was about to stab his blade through the faceplate. And Donna couldn’t stop him.

The look on his face was so- so-

So vacant and empty and COLD. His eyes were glazed over, like he was in some kind of a trance, seeing and not seeing, moving without thinking, and the sight of those warm brown eyes unfocused and uncaring was enough to stab a dagger of ice into her heart.

“DOCTOR!” she screamed, “STOP!”

His eyes flicked over to where she was lying, and for a second, he stopped. His blade froze in midair, and the glazed look shattered as he focused on her.

And the whole world was crawling around them, just him and her moving at normal speed, and-

The Doctor redirected his swing, slashing the Tauran across the chest instead of beheading it, and instead aimed a kick squarely to its chest.

He was looking around for the source of the noise, and Donna noticed for the first time the sparks of red and gold swirling in his eyes, the way his hair was standing on end like he was touching a Tesla coil, the stance-

His eyes fell on her, and it was like she wasn’t even there. He was looking THROUGH her, like he couldn’t see her, like he couldn’t see anything but the chairs and tables that had gotten knocked over.

“DOCTOR!” she shouted again, and he didn’t respond, like he couldn’t hear her the second time; just kept stalking around his slow-motion world, not talking, not twitching. Like a horrifying windup doll out for blood and nothing else.

Donna rolled over to look at the body on the grass- her body. Her body, bleeding out in the summer sun.

It didn’t take a genius to work out what had happened to drive her Doctor so far off the deep end. Couple that with the machine almost CERTAINLY manipulating his emotions, and they'd ended up with the hate-crazed monster stalking around the yard, looking around for the source of his friend’s voice. Striding back towards one of the Taurans that was still alive with hate blazing in his eyes.

Her eyes fell on the Admin Console- the gadget strapped to her wrist.

Leather-Doctor said she could control anything from there. That this was the method to control the whole simulation and tweak what needed tweaking.

And an idea hit her.

If she brought “herself” back, then maybe she could stop the Doctor from going on his mad rampage, and maybe she could bring him back from the brink, and maybe he wouldn’t be completely mad when they pulled him out, and- if she couldn’t get him out of here remotely, maybe she could at least undermine this thing’s attempts to screw with his head?

She tapped on one of the options, the option for EDIT SIMULATION.

She dashed away from the Doctor, the whole world moving at a crawl still, and dove towards her own body. 

There was a long list of options, and she frantically scrolled through them all, afraid she’d miss the one that she needed.

Down the list of hundreds of options, somewhere in the R’s, below RETICULATE SPLINES and RECURSIVE ALGORITHMS, was REVIVE ENTITY.

And it was glowing bright gold.

“Oh, brilliant,” Donna mumbled as she tapped on it, and a list of options popped up that were sadly all in gibberish. Frantically, she scrolled down the list, panicking at the terms used- REVIVE_ENTITY_INJURY_LEFT_EYE, and on and on, and on and on and on, and she was about to scream because the Doctor was going mad and he couldn’t see her and-

One option at the bottom of the list glowed like a firework. Gold particles swirled around it, and circular patterns inscribed themselves behind the plain English text, scrawling and unscrawling over and over again.

REGENERATE_DONNA_IX

Regenerate. Not revive.

Donna tapped it, and golden energy started to swirl around her free hand. Without thinking, she lunged, slamming it down onto her other-self’s chest, desperate that it might work, please work, please-

Donna backed up when the body- her body- started to glow, a bright gold. Stumbling back, her eyes were wide- why was the body glowing gold? Wouldn’t she just wake up and go to yell at the Doctor?

A blast of light swallowed the body’s hands and face, glowing particles blasting away from everything in an explosion of energy, and-

“Donna-?!” the Doctor’s voice, alarmed, cut through the scene. He was looking back with wide eyes and a bloodstained sword, everything else still trapped in slow-motion.

Donna turned back to look at herself, and-

The woman that sat up from the grass was not the same woman who’d collapsed onto it. She looked up and looked Donna in the eyes, same face, same nose, same hair.

Utterly alien, ice-blue eyes.

And a black leather jacket.

And Donna realized she knew those eyes. They belonged to the younger Doctor. The burly northern bloke.

And she knew those jeans, and black boots, and that meant that this, this thing, was a composite of, of-

“You’re some kind of…Doctor-Donna,” she whispered in shock. What had the gizmo called it? The option to revive this entity again was greyed out, but-

“GET OUT!” the Other-Donna roared in a strange voice- her voice, but like she was putting on a Northern accent. And not doing a half-bad job of it.

“What- I-“

“You’ve done more than I can ever thank you for,” Other-Donna replied, “now _GET OUT_ BEFORE YOU GET TRAPPED!”

“Trapped?! I-“

“He can’t see you,” she snarled, “An’ I’ve got this. I’ll take it from here. Now GET OUT! The longer you stay here, the more it’ll try to suck you in. It doesn’t want to let you go- it doesn’t want to let HIM go.”

“What are you going to do?! What are you!?” Donna snapped back.

“I’m-“ her voice faltered, and she looked down.

Her voice, when she spoke again a second later, was different. The clipped Northern accent was gone, replaced with an imitation of her Doctor’s accent.

“Donna,” she said, “Get out. Get out because I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Not yet. Tell him-“ Donna choked, “Tell him that the only way to get out of here is to kill himself.” She said, the words making her throat tighten, “Tell him we can’t get him out of here, and he’s got to wake himself up.”

Other-Donna nodded once, her serious expression softening for a moment.

“I’ll tell him,” she said, her voice back to a thick Northern burr, “NOW **_GO!” _**

And then she turned and ran towards the Doctor, slamming into him in a textbook football tackle. Knocking him to the grass before he could do something horrific to the last Tauran standing.

And as the world started to speed up around her, Donna checked the device on her arm again, ignoring several unread messages from Leather Fetish.

She didn’t want to go.

Her eyes fell on her Doctor, struggling under the weight of her hybrid doppelgänger, trying to get up. The world was speeding up around her, and she looked down at the menu, hell bent to do SOMETHING else to help out.

She looked down at her screen, desperate to start messing with settings, but-

The menu had closed, and there was just one button left. Glowing in swirling gold, with circles drawing and undrawing themselves behind it. And two words, printed in English.

LEAVE SESSION.

Her only option.

Donna clenched her teeth.

She tapped it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the mindfuck. Don't worry, it only gets worse from here.
> 
> And it's a slightly early upload, too, because it's finally Friday and I have a substantial backlog to dip into!
> 
> Did you enjoy it? Any bits you want to scream at me for? if you loved it, hated it, spotted a typo, or want Ten to jab a sword through my chest, let me know and leave a comment! I live for the comments. Let me know your favourite or least favourite bits!
> 
> Oh, and hold on to your asses. Shit's about to get _ugly..._


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Jack have a chat. 
> 
> Nine calls for aid and doesn't like what's on offer. At all.

Rose examined the map on the data slate.

The layout of their current floor was a big ladder; two hallways ran the length of the ship on either side, joined by hallways that ran through the middle of the ship, with large squares of inaccessible space where lurked pipes and machines and who knew what else.

Rose traced her eyes over their current bit of the ship, indicated by a gently glowing dot; they were just up the hall from one of the cut-through hallways where her Doctor had parked his TARDIS, blocking the way. Just down the hall from that hallway was the one that led to the ship’s main elevators; it was a square, blocked off at one end by a spot of careless parking.

She tapped another button, this one showing elevator shafts, and noticed that there was a second one right alongside the main elevator shaft- ORDERLY ACCESS, it said, according to the glowing diagram.

She sighed and put the slate on the floor, looking down at the man sprawled at her feet.

The future-Doctor was breathing slowly, now, his face contorted in a half-frown; but he wasn’t screaming and he wasn’t thrashing, so it was an improvement. He lay between her and Jack, the two humans sat on the floor with their backs to the walls on opposite sides of the Time Lord.

Waiting.

Rose growled and banged her head against the wall, prompting a concerned look from her friend.

“Rosie?”

“I hate this,” Rose sighed, “I hate waiting around, waiting for him to finish-“

“I know, Rose. I know.”

“I’ve got half a mind to go down there and see what’s taking him so bloody long. Stop him getting his head stoved in or something like that-“

“I know.”

Rose sighed, cradling her head in her hands.

Jack walked around the other Doctor, sliding his back down the wall to sit next to her.

“Rose,” he said quietly, “Are you ever gonna tell him?”

“What?” she croaked, a sardonic chuckle on her words, “Tell ‘im some nothing shop girl’s in love with one of the most amazing men in the universe? Tell ‘im that, Jack? Tell ‘im that I want to spend the rest of my life with him when I’m just lucky he hasn’t realized that I’m some nobody?”

“Yeah. Exactly that.” Jack said, putting his arm around her shoulder, “Tell the man who looks at you like you hung the stars for him that you love him?”

“He doesn’t look at me like that,” Rose said with a defeated sigh, slumping as she looked at the future-Doctor.

The man she was resolutely NOT travelling with.

“He does, though. Remember that time on Karaxian, when you were in the red ballgown?”

“What, a week ago?”

“Yeah. A week ago. I got a good look at his face from my angle, Rose. He looked like he wanted to sweep you off your feet and carry you away.”

“So why’d he just grunt and say I looked fine?” she said with a sigh. She’d picked that dress out with help from the TARDIS, trying to provoke a reaction, and what had he done? Brushed her off and followed them out, then spent the entire ball standing in the corner nursing a-

Wait.

Spent the entire grand ball standing in the corner of the ornate gilded room with a flute of champagne scowling at every man who she danced with. Like a jealous old fucker.

“Oh my god,” Rose barked out a halfway-broken laugh.

“See?” Jack said, “You’ve seen it too. He loves you, Rose.”

“So why’s he never said anything about it?!” she was halfway to yelling, now, swallowing down a lump of tears, “Why’s he never so much as hinted that he’s interested, why-“

“Rose. He’s _the Doctor. _Does he do emotions well? At all? Ever?”

“…He does sarcastic.”

“Yeah, granted, but that’s not an emotion. You know him. I promise you, Rosie, he’s interested. But I’m telling you: You’re gonna have to make the first move. He’s too chickenshit, or tied up in knots about it, or whatever.”

Rose snorted.

“So what…what do I do?” she said, “Just…go up and snog ‘im, or-?”

“Well, I’d start with a kiss or something. If you go straight to tonsil hockey he might just go catatonic, and then we’d have two TARDISes and no Time Lords and be stuck here forever. But, yeah! Maybe just go up and plant one on him? I dunno. Let him know you want him back. Trust me: you break that ice for him, and he’ll surprise you. But maybe start with a kiss and tell him how you feel, and see what he does from there, yeah?”

Rose snorted.

“Awful easy for you to say.”

“Rose, I’ve been watching you two dance around each other since I came on board. The tension’s fuckin’ _killing _me. I need some relief. Just tell him how you feel, bite that bullet, and get it over with.”

Jack turned and looked at the Doctor in pinstripes, both him and Rose staring at the other man and thinking the same thing.

_Tell him, before it’s too late. _

Jack rubbed her shoulder.

“You can do this, Rosie. I know you can.” He said quietly.

Rose just nodded.

They sat in silence for a little bit, and then Jack opened his mouth again.

“Rose? I just wanted to say… you’re not some nobody.” He beamed at her, “I’ve seen a lot of nobodies in my life. I’ve seen a lot of simpering bitches and people who run away at the first whiff of danger. You, though… you charge straight for it, hand-in-hand with him. You aren’t some nobody. You’re Rose motherfucking Tyler, and I’m glad I met you. And you know something?”

Jack leaned in with a grin.

“The Doc’s glad he’s met you, too. Every single day. His face just lights up when you walk in the room. So tell him how you feel, Rose. Show him how brave you really are.”

Rose looked at him with wide eyes. This time agent, this man who’d walked on god knew how many planets…and he thought she was something.

And she knew in her heart of hearts that the Doctor did too.

The peaceful silence was interrupted by a growl from the floor as the Doctor started to twitch and thrash. He wasn’t screaming- just shaking, all his muscles tensed, hissing with a snarl carved onto his face. The fit wasn’t as violent as the last one, but when Rose reached out to touch him and try to calm him-

The second her fingers made contact with his hand she pulled back with a yelp. It felt like she’d just been shocked, like she’d just touched a sparking cable; it jolted up her arm and made all her muscles spasm, and she shuddered.

“What the fuck is happening?!” Jack spluttered, “Rose, you okay?”

“I just- he shocked me-“ she whispered, eyes wide, “What the fuck-“

Jack reached out and grabbed the other man’s hand, reeling back a second later with a cry of his own.

“What-“ Jack started, only for the Doctor to interrupt with another snarl of fury. He rolled his head in their direction, and-

His eyes snapped open.

Rose gasped.

They weren’t focused on anything- it wasn’t safe to remove the helmet, because he was very clearly seeing and not seeing anything still. Jack had reached out to grab the cable and Rose grabbed his wrist instinctively.

In the depths of his pupils they could see golden sparks dancing and swirling, and as he sat there breathing shallowly, a disturbing smile worked its way onto his face.

It wasn’t a happy smile, it was a smile of sick and twisted joy. And yet, no sooner had it crossed his face than it shrunk away, replaced by an expression of utter confusion and disgust.

And his eyelids closed again, and he rolled onto his back.

The spasming continued, but there wasn’t any screaming; just a lot of growling and twitching and shuddering. The spasms slowed, until finally he was lying there, breathing smooth and even, back to frowning and the odd twitch.

“What the fuck was that?” Jack asked, shaking his hand out, “He- he SHOCKED me. He shocked YOU! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

Rose shook her head.

“I don’t know.” she replied, “I- I don’t know.”

Silence filled the room again, the only sound that of the ship’s engines humming in the distance and the steady breathing of the future-Doctor as he slept on obliviously.

Rose shook her hand out and bit her lip.

They sat in silence for another few minutes- how long it actually was, Rose didn’t know. Typically, she liked to ask the Doctor how long they’d been standing around, if she was curious- he knew, always, down to the nanosecond. And he was very keen to remind her of those lengths of wasted time when they were visiting her mother. Particularly when he was trapped on the couch with no respite from estate gossip, save for whining in Rose’s ear about how long they’d been “imprisoned” by domesticity.

And he wasn’t here. So Rose didn’t know.

She wished he’d call with some news.

_“Doctor, doctor, give me the news, I got a bad case, of lovin’ youuuu-“ _burst out through the tinny speaker on Rose’s phone, cutting through her musings and prompting a chuckle from Jack as she answered the call. 

“That just chaps his ass _every single time_ he hears that ringtone,” he giggled, “Setting that was the best idea we’ve ever had-“

Rose held up a finger to silence her friend, listening to the Doctor speaking. It was good to hear from him, even if she had a feeling that she wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgeways about what had just happened with his future self.

“Doctor?” she asked, “Something wrong?”

“Yes. Somethin’s wrong. I’m- we’re trapped down here. I need you to send Jack down here, and you stay with him in case he wakes up. Got it?” he replied, and Rose shook her head.

“Oh no you don’t! What’s happening, what’s the situation? Hang on, I’ll put you on speakerphone…” Rose pressed a button and put the phone on the floor so Jack could hear too.

“We’re in the lab on deck 5. There’s a bunch of robots- Orderlies, Donna reckons they’re called. They’re very, very fast an’ they’ve got these arms, an’ they respond to motion. We’re penned into the lab an’ we can’t get out. Jack, we need you to come down here an’ shoot them all.” The Doctor said with a sigh.

“How many of them are there?” Jack asked, checking the shot counter on one of his guns.

“Eleven. There’s eleven robots.”

Jack bit his lip.

“Doc,” he said slowly, “I got three shots on this gun and four on my other. That’s not gonna be enough.”

There was a muffled sound like the Doctor was trying not to curse.

“Alright, well, We’ll-“

“I have an idea.” Rose said, running roughshod over whatever the Doctor was going to say, “I was lookin’ at a map of this floor, the one we’re on, right? And-the robots follow motion, is that right?”

“Yeah, they chase anything that moves. They’re deaf an’ blind but I assume they have a map of the ship somewhere in their heads.” The Doctor responded slowly, concern on his voice, “Rose, you’re not suggestin’-“

“The floor we’re on, it’s a big square,” she said, “An’ if they’ve been bumping into the door of your lab for however long, then they’re pretty stupid, right? They see movement and they want to catch it?”

“Yes…” The Doctor said slowly, drawing out the S. They could practically see the look of dawning comprehension on his face.

“So…the floor up here, it’s a big square,” she said, firing up the map and taking a look at it, “an’…how tall are the robots? Are they shorter than the TARDIS?”

“Yes. They’re a fair bit shorter than the TARDIS. Why?”

Rose smirked.

“I reckon if I go down there an’ run around, I can lure them back up to our floor. You’ve parked your TARDIS in a hallway, an’ it’s pluggin’ up the whole thing. The hallway with the lifts comes out on both sides of the ship, so if I just lure them around to the hallway on the other side of the TARDIS, they’ll be stuck an’ too stupid to go around.”

“Except then you’ll be stuck on the other side of the TARDIS with a bunch of killer robots!” the Doctor protested, “Rose, don’t. There’s got to be another way-“

“Not if I climb over the TARDIS,” she said confidently, “Gymnastics bronze, remember? That’s easy. I’ll just climb over the top, and they’ll be stuck.”

There was a long, solemn pause.

“I don’t like this plan.” He said with a growl, “I don’t like it at all. And hold on, lift**_s?_ **Plural?”

“Map says there’s a second set for the “Orderlies”. Reckon that’s how they get from floor to floor. I can lure them away. You know how fast I can run.”

The Doctor growled, an angry, helpless noise. Even through the crappy speakerphone, it was clear how much he hated every single part of this plan.

“I’m gonna do it whether you like it or not,” Rose snapped, “’m not letting you an’ Donna waste away down there. How’d waking up future-you go, anyway? Anything?”

“…Later,” the Doctor said in a tone that meant it hadn’t gone well, “We’ll deal with it later. Jack, I-“

His voice faltered.

“I’ll stay right here, Doc.” Jack promised, “I’m not leaving future-you.”

“That’s…not what I wanted to say.” He sighed again, “But…yes. Please stay there. Rose-“

He choked.

“Just tell me when you’re on the lift up. Call me, or- something. Okay?”

“I will.”

Further conversation was interrupted by the sound of Donna shouting, “DOCTOR!” in a voice like she’d found something important.

“I gotta go,” the Doctor said, “Rose- please be careful.”

“I will.” She promised, trying not to dwell on how much concern his words carried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a breather chapter to tide you over until the atomic bomb that's coming Friday. Donna and Nine discover some dark and twisted shit in the belly of the beast, and things get dangerous...
> 
> If you liked it, hated it, or want me to go climb over the TARDIS, leave a comment! Same as usual, I love you all.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine and Donna discover some of the secrets lurking in the belly of the beast...

When Donna woke up, the Doctor was standing in front of her, eyes wide and wild.

“Donna, Donna-“ he spluttered, “Donna, are you alright?!”

“I think so,” she groaned, lifting the helmet away with a titanic effort- it felt like all her limbs had been filled with sand, following her commands sluggishly. Something wet was running down her forehead, and it wasn’t sweat.

She reached up and dabbed at it, blinking a few times at the red colour.

“Oh, that’s just bloody brilliant,” she growled, “How much blood-?”

The Doctor looked at the flood guiltily, sonic screwdriver already out and buzzing away. Donna felt a tickling- he was mending the punctures to her scalp, sealing up the holes the helmet had left behind.

“A lot.” He rumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she sighed, cradling her head in her hands.

Donna stood up and instantly felt sick. Her eyes fell on the bucket under the chair, the one that smelled kind of foul, and instantly she knew why it was there.

The Doctor looked up just as Donna emptied her stomach into the bucket, flopping back into the chair with a groan.

“Oh, GOD,” she croaked, “what the flippin’ hell was that?”

“VR Disconnect Sickness,” he said, “Doesn’t surprise me. Your inner ear gets real unhappy when your brain starts thinkin’ it’s movin’ around without any input from your body. You’ve not had any trainin’, either, so I suspect it’s twice as bad for you. With the right implants you can get rid of the waste, but-“

He shook his head, ambling over and standing next to her. “Feelin’ better?”

Donna nodded and put the foul-smelling bucket on the floor. She grimaced, smacking her lips.

“I’d KILL for a glass of water right now,” she muttered, only to find the Doctor fumbling in his pockets for something. Before she could ask what, he produced a bottle of water and shoved it in her face with a pleased smile.

“Always keep some on hand, me. Rose gets thirsty a lot, an’ me TARDIS has a thing for deserts. Don’t know why, but it’s good to be prepared.”

Donna accepted the drink gratefully, and the Doctor leaned on the desk nearby with his arms folded as she got the horrible taste out of her mouth.

She stared out the glass door, watching the robots bumping into it, and turned to look at the Doctor. He’d been watching on the monitor, he would have seen- he would have seen what happened in that nightmare-

“What happened in there?” Donna whispered, looking at him, “I- Did you see what happened with-“

“With the fake-you in the simulation? Yes. I was watching.” The Doctor rubbed his eyes, “I don’t know what that was. I don’t know what happened.”

“Why did I- did SHE, that’s not me- why did she come back looking like a combination of, of-“ Donna choked on her words, looking at the Doctor with demanding eyes. He’d know, right? Right?

“I don’t know.” The Doctor said flatly. He didn’t want to know why Donna’s attempts to revive herself in the simulation had been a dead ringer for regeneration. And he had NO CLUE why the thing that had regenerated from Fake Donna’s body had been wearing his leather jacket.

“How can you not know?! He’s YOU!”

“Yeah, he’s me. From the FUTURE. I don’t know what’s going on in his head! Maybe he’s gone completely fucking mad!” the Doctor roared, “If I had to GUESS- an’ this is just a GUESS, Miss Donna, just a speculation, jus’ me graspin’ at fucking straws here- If I had to guess what that was, I’d say that it’s him tryin’ to hijack the simulation somehow. I’d say that that’s me an’ my magnificent brain latchin’ on to some excuse, some seam, to get myself out. But I have no idea. I have _no idea_ why she came back lookin’ like us two combined, or what the fuck happened in there.”

He took a shaky breath.

“…I’m sorry.” He said quietly, rubbing at his face. Fuck, since when did he apologize like that?

Donna had gone very, very quiet, the dots finally connecting, the fog in her brain gone enough to process what she’d seen.

“He- he was gonna kill them,” she whispered, “I’ve never- he’s never- he’s _not_ a violent man. Why-“

Her eyes welled up with tears. The sight of her Doctor, face blank and compassionless, stabbing a blade towards someone with intent to kill-

“It’s the computer,” the Doctor rumbled, rubbing his face, “S’messing with his head. Making him think things he wouldn’t normally think, do things he wouldn’t normally do. It’s not him.”

Donna shivered.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, “I’m- he’s going to go mad in there, isn’t he?”

The Doctor nodded stiffly.

“The program’ll release the helmet,” he said slowly, “I was looking over the documentation. He’ll be released, twelve hours from when it was put on. What he’ll be like when it comes off, though…”

He looked at the floor, going silent.

“He’ll be stark raving mad by then.” Donna said softly, “We’re not trying to save _him,_ then. We’re trying to save his mind.”

The Doctor stood and walked over to her, offering her a hand up. Donna took it, and he pulled her to her feet.

Donna felt herself wrapped up in a tight, firm hug. The Doctor rested his chin on her shoulder, and she held him back, fingers scrabbling on worn leather. This Doctor was so much bulkier than the beanpole she knew; he really was very huggable. Big and solid.

Donna gave him a squeeze and willed herself to be calm.

He needed her to be calm. He needed her. He needed her to think, to figure out how to get him out of there.

They stood there for a few moments, not saying anything, before Donna pulled away. She took a few deep breaths to calm her frantic breathing and rapid heartbeat, forcing herself to stay calm.

He needed her.

Finally, she straightened up, schooled her face into serious, and turned to look at the Doctor.

“What are we gonna do?” she asked, gesturing at the robots at the door, “Because your big plan involved waking up my Doctor, and him taking his TARDIS down here, and now we’re just bloody stuck.”

The Doctor looked at the floor pensively, nodding.

“We’re trapped, then?” she said quietly, looking him up and down. The Time Lord was drawn into himself, staring at the grout between two floor tiles like it was the most interesting thing in the entire world.

“There’s a way out.” The Doctor in leather said, voice firm, “there’s ALWAYS a way out…”

He looked down at his pocket, pulling out his phone.

The Doctor pressed a few buttons to dial, holding it up to his ear, and Donna watched as his shoulders slumped.

He was, presumably, going to call in their backup. The backup Donna was very glad she’d been so insistent on having in the first place. But while he did that…

Her Doctor needed her. And he needed her to find out if there was any way to get him out of there. Any way to get him back, keep him safe.

Her eyes fell on the mainframe, and then the Doctor in leather on his phone, and then back on the mainframe.

Quietly humming in its corner.

She stood up, patting him on the shoulder as she walked past, and headed towards the mainframe. The Doctor had been messing around with it while she’d been in the machine, clearly to pull up documentation of some description, and she decided to have a crack at it while he was on the phone. It beat sitting around with her hands folded, at any rate.

She ambled up to the keyboard and looked it over, then spared a glance at the screen. There wasn’t a mouse or anything like that, and it was presently showing a bunch of documentation for Experimental Build 15, which made slightly less sense to her than the Quantum Field Theory. Donna examined it, wondering how she was supposed to navigate without a mouse.

It was the future though, perhaps it was a touch screen…?

A few taps on the screen itself, and the document shrunk itself down and hid in the corner, pulling up an image of the file system he’d been rooting around in. And here, Donna smirked. This was officially her turf. The Doctor could decode what these documents actually meant, but when it came to finding obscure shit tucked away by overpaid morons in the depths of an arcane office filing system?

NOBODY beat an office temp.

The Doctor’s deep baritone echoed off the lab’s pristine white walls, and Donna could hear him pacing back and forth like a caged animal as the conversation went on. The pauses got longer and longer, and she spared a glance back. The look on his face was one of barely-restrained fury, like whatever was being proposed was something he hated with every fibre of his being.

Donna looked back at the file system, examining the weird graphics. Blue lines connected boxes in branched trees- ah, okay, so that was the parent directory. The TARDIS was helpfully translating for her into comprehensible terms for a 21st century woman- the main directory was listed as “G:”, which meant it was probably a shared drive. The Doctor had gone down into the folder labelled BUILDS and then DOCUMENTATION; Donna tapped on the folder above BUILDS that read, incomprehensibly, DISAN.

She’d held down a job at the front desk of a factory once with a similarly arcane main folder name, put in place by the first secretary who’d had access to a computer. And if she knew anything, it was that all the good shit was squirreled away in the weirdest places when it came to these directories.

And lo, her search revealed a nugget of gold in the form of another subfolder that simply read PROFILES. Donna tapped on it with a smirk.

That folder expanded into HUNDREDS of subfolders, with names and the date the folder was created; she scrolled down the screen in frustration, skipping past the names, all the way down the list until she got to the bottom, the most recently created folders.

And her heart missed about three beats.

-[NAME_UNTRANSLATABLE]

-DONNA NOBLE

-[NAME_UNTRANSLATABLE]

-JACK HARKNESS

“But…yes. Please stay there. Rose-“ the Doctor choked on his words, and Donna spun around to look at him with wide eyes.

“DOCTOR!” she shouted, “I’ve- I’ve found something.”

“I gotta go,” the Doctor said, making unbroken eye contact with Donna, “Rose- please be careful.”

There was a pause, and he hung up, shoving his phone in his pocket and stalking over.

The look on his face was so weary and frightened that she genuinely believed he was 900 years old for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” she asked without thinking, and the Doctor shook his head.

“Rose.” He grunted, “Rose is going to get herself killed. For me. To save me. I’m-“

Donna put an arm around his shoulder and let him lean on her. His face was blank but his eyes were stormy, a tangle of emotions inside of him. Donna just rubbed his arm, trying her best to keep him stable.

“It’s such a terrible plan,” the Doctor grunted, “I hate every part of it. She’s gonna get herself fuckin’ killed, an’ I’m gonna have to explain it to her mother, an’- I don’t-“

Donna just patted his arm.

“She’ll be fine, Doctor,” Donna said, “Rose is tough. Give her some credit. She knows what she’s doing. You can’t always protect her.”

“I-“ he choked and looked at the floor, looking up into Donna’s eyes.

“Rose knows what she’s doing.” Donna said firmly, “And I have some good news for you. She IS protected. She’s not in the system.”

Donna gestured at the screen in front of her, and the Doctor leaned in, eyes going wide as he scanned over the profiles she’d found.

“How did you-?”

“Worked a front desk at a factory for a spell,” Donna said smugly, “Every contractor we had in needed to do a safety quiz and they all got their own special folder. I assumed they’d do the same here for patients. Good assumption, eh?”

“Clever. Almost as clever as me.” The Doctor said, words right but tone flat. Donna punched him in the arm, and he chuckled weakly.

The Doctor took a deep breath and tapped on one of the profiles- the one above JACK HARKNESS, schooling his face into serious.

Donna shuffled from foot to foot, twiddling her sonic screwdriver back to the robot-killer setting as she watched him work. Her eyes fell on his dark black hair-the Doctor didn’t have a tinfoil hat anymore, since it was currently being crushed under robotic treads somewhere outside. And that meant that the second he left this place, he’d be at risk of having his brains scooped out. Even if Rose’s plan to get them free worked, they still had the problem of this Doctor getting grabbed by robotic arms the minute he passed by an unoccupied cell.

And Donna distinctly remembered a few unoccupied cells on her way to the elevators.

They needed a plan.

“Oh, no,” the Doctor whispered, and she looked up from the screwdriver, concerned.

“What’s wrong?” Donna looked up at him, first at the expression of cold horror on his face, and then to the monitor.

The screen he’d pulled up was a document- a profile, actually. Something the computer had clearly generated itself.

THE DOCTOR it read, with a picture of Manchester running back into his TARDIS, taken from an overhead angle.

_NAME: [ERROR: NAME_UNTRANSLATABLE]_

_ALIAS: THE DOCTOR, JOHN SMITH_

_TRAINING: MILITARY TRAINING._

_EXPERIENCE: COMBAT VETERAN._

_PTSD SYMPTOMS: MODERATE TO SEVERE. _

** _EXPERIMENTAL TREATMENT RECOMMENDED._ **

_STATUS: SOLDIER. TIER 15 CANDIDATE. REQUIRES TREATMENT. _

_NOTICE: SCANS INCOMPLETE. FURTHER DATA NEEDED. CONTINUE SCANNING PRIOR TO TREATMENT._

“Donna,” The Doctor said with a sigh, “Remember that bit of swanning about I did? Where I healed your knuckles before Jack came out an’ saw the scanners…?”

“Yeah? That was so…_You,_ by the way.”

The Doctor rubbed his temples with one hand. “Yeah. I know. That was so me. An’ while I was showing off an’ being so clever, it was scanning my brain. An’ now if I go outside without my hat, it’s gonna finish its scans an’ grab me.”

Donna swallowed nervously, watching as the Doctor reached up and scratched his hair. His uncovered, tinfoil-hat-less hair.

He pressed a key to tap out, then clicked on the profile above his- DONNA NOBLE.

She swallowed, and they both leaned in to read the results.

_NAME: DONNA NOBLE._

_TRAINING: NO MILITARY TRAINING._

_EXPERIENCE: NO COMBAT EXPERIENCE. _

_PTSD SYMPTOMS: MILD TO NONEXISTANT. _

** _TREATMENT NOT RECOMMENDED. _ **

_STATUS: NOT A SOLDIER. NOT A CANDIDATE. DOES NOT REQUIRE TREATMENT._

“It’s scanned me too,” Donna said with a horrified whisper, “But-”

“It doesn’t want you. It doesn’t want anybody who doesn’t have combat experience, it looks like. That’s what it said in the documentation for the experimental build I’m stuck in, too. ‘S for soldiers, to try an’ modify their behaviour into…somethin’ else.” He replied, eyes fixed on the screen.

“So…the ship wants…”

“Me.” The Doctor said quietly, “It wants me. It wants soldiers with PTSD, an’ that’s me.”

Donna spun around and looked at her tinfoil hat, sitting forlornly on the desk.

“You’re taking my hat,” she said, “And I don’t want to hear any of your shit. You’re putting that thing on and you’re not taking it off until you’re back on your TARDIS and back in the fucking vortex, got it?”

The Doctor nodded.

“Can’t argue with that. It…SHOULD…be safe for you, but-“ he shook his head and tabbed back to the list, looking at it.

Looking at the folder that _wasn’t _there. The one that _didn’t_ read ROSE TYLER.

The machine hadn’t been able to scan her.

She was safe.

The Doctor pulled the data slate out of his pocket and looked around the terminal for a cable, finding one clipped to the wall. He plugged it into the data slate, and set a few things to dump a copy of everything in the directory into his slate.

And of course a box popped up asking for a password. He rolled his eyes and set his sonic, buzzing the mainframe and tapping a few things on the keyboard- the password couldn’t possibly be-

It was, indeed, “Password.”

Fucking hell.

While the contents of the directory were dumping, the Doctor decided to poke around in the file system for anything else incriminating. He looked up to ask Donna to keep watch for Rose, but she wasn’t standing next to him anymore.

“Donna?” he asked, looking over at her. She’d ambled over to the computer, and was currently fussing with it, typing on the keyboard and tapping at the screen furiously.

“Doctor, they still use e-mail in the future, right? Which one of these symbols is this bloke’s inbox?” she asked.

The Doctor blinked.

“Red circle with a triangle through it. Why?”

“Thanks. I have a hunch about something.”

Donna tapped the program in the bottom corner of the screen, tapping her fingers on the desk as it loaded, and nodded when the bloke’s e-mail client popped up. She started to scroll through it and sighed- there were hundreds of messages.

Right, time for some keyword searches.

The TARDIS poked into her mind, gently pointing out which keys to press so she’d be able to write the translations of the words she needed. Translating written and spoken words that Donna was hearing and reading was one thing; but since she couldn’t speak whatever this language was, she’d need help to write it herself. All the characters were different, and language had shifted so much by this point in time…

But, hey, sentient timeship.

MANAGEMENT was the first one Donna stuck into the search bar. Too many results to go through in a reasonable time frame. Right.

ADMINISTRATION was the next. Dozens of results, which she skimmed; a lot of meaningless stuff.

Okay, fuck it, time to go for the jugular.

CLASSIFIED.

Bingo.

A half-dozen emails popped up, and Donna scanned over them all, looking for relevant subject lines.

REPLY: FWD: UHA HIGH COMMAND: SURGEON GENERAL’S ORDERS FOR THE USSS MOTHER THERESA- CLASSIFIED- STOP FUCKING AROUND, CRAIG

From: Daniel May (May.Daniel@UHAmedical.com) 

FWD: UHA HIGH COMMAND: SURGEON GENERAL’S ORDERS FOR THE USSS MOTHER THERESA- CLASSIFIED

From: Robert Clarkson (Clarkson.Robert@UHAMedical.com)

The second one had an attachment, and Donna tapped on it. The message text was just some babble about how this message was for people with level 5 clearance and above only, and was straight from the desk of the UHA’s Surgeon General.

Whatever the fuck a UHA was.

Donna tapped on the attachment and waited for it to load, spinning around to look at the Doctor.

“Think I found something,” she said, and he sauntered over, leaving his data slate plugged in and lying on the floor.

“What is it?” the Doctor asked, leaning over the chair as Donna scooted back into place.

“Surgeon General’s orders, apparently,” she said, “For the UHA, whatever that is. And for this ship. I think the ship’s called the- USSS Mother Theresa? Well, that’s encouraging…” Donna said, looking up at him hopefully. They named the ship after Mother Theresa. That had to be good news, right? Saint Theresa?

The Doctor’s scowl darkened at the mere mention of that woman’s name, and he ground his teeth. Ignoring Donna’s words, he locked his eyes on the document that had just loaded, and started to read it.

Donna barely had time to take in the official logo and letterhead with the watermarked logo of a snake around a staff over an anchor, nor all the names and dates and words- the Doctor already had his fingers on the screen and was scrolling down the page, eyes darting back and forth as he read at about Mach twelve.

“No change there, then,” she muttered with a sardonic eye-roll- her Doctor liked to do that too, sitting down with a book that would take her days and standing up an hour later wanting to chat about plot points or quantum mechanics or what a great comedian Tycho Brahe was.

As the Doctor read, Donna watched his face- there was no point in her trying to read it herself, what with him leaned over her and scrolling through the pages faster than she could blink. But looking at his face gave her a pretty good idea of what he was seeing.

His frown deepened, and as the pages of the document flew by, his lip curled up into a snarl that got more and more pronounced. His brows furrowed, eyes narrowing; his shoulders tensed and hackles raised, and as he kept going, Donna got the feeling like she was sitting next to a bomb whose timer had just started ticking down twice as fast.

They hit the bottom of the last page, a loopy signature with the Surgeon General’s name underneath to clarify who had written it, and the Doctor straightened.

Donna shoved her chair back instinctively, slamming the backrest into the desk- there wasn’t anywhere for her to get away, and the look on his face was hammering every instinctive button in her mind that said _run, run, **run away-**_

The Doctor leaned in again and closed the document, sucking in a shaky breath. His limbs were trembling, like he was a coil of barely-contained rage, and if the look on his face was anything to go by-

The fury in his eyes could light a glacier on fire.

He closed Donna’s search out and looked at the most recent e-mail, examining the date it was received, before straightening back up and folding his arms. He was standing there like a statue, eyes locked on the wall behind the monitor, fury making him shake.

“…What did it say?” Donna asked nervously. 

“Those orders were sent twenty-two years ago,” he said flatly, “That was two days before this bloke got his last email. It’s been floatin’ in space, empty, waitin’ for someone to find it for all that time. An’ it’s a military hospital ship. It was built durin’ the Human-Tauran war-“

“… and it was abandoned twelve years before the war ended. My Doctor fiddled with his monitor a bit and found out that the war’s been over for ten years now. So it’s been twenty-two years since anyone was alive on board this ship…” Donna met his furious glare.

The Doctor nodded.

“And it’s a military ship,” Donna continued, “So…all those cells… They were…”

“Soldiers who’d suffered trauma durin’ the war.” he said softly- almost too softly. A voice like he wanted to start ripping heads off. Donna swallowed. She’d never seen her Doctor anywhere _near_ this angry, ever.

“It gets worse,” he said quietly, “a lot worse.”

He typed in the word CLASSIFIED again, and pulled up the document again; every time he leaned over Donna, she took the opportunity to scoot her chair a little farther to the side. A little farther away from the furious Time Lord looming next to her.

“This is a directive to the head technician in this lab,” he said, translating the twee euphemisms and dense governmental tone of the directive, “From the Surgeon-General of the United Human Alliance, the group that took on the Taurans. It’s on orders from Military High Command. An’…”

He stopped and swallowed.

“What did they do?” Donna whispered.

“These ships are supposed to isolate patients with mental trauma an’ help them out while they’re waitin’ for help. Keep ‘em someplace safe and peaceful until they can be transferred home for proper treatment. So they already had a ship full of traumatized soldiers hooked into their Matrix…An’ it says here that the lot up at the top of the food chain saw these people as _lab rats.”_

The Doctor’s eyes were locked on the page. If looks could kill, the computer would have been riddled with bullet holes.

“Lab rats?”

“They wanted to see if they could-“ he swallowed, “They wanted these vulnerable people to wake up hatin’ Taurans with _every fibre of their bodies._ They were messin’ with the simulations, the emotional control aspects and tamperin’ with it to add Taurans to fairyland, mess up everyone’s perfect place, an’ see what’d happen. Using the brain’s pleasure and reward system to make it feel like killing Taurans was the only thing worth living for. Dig up their traumas to inflame their hate, then give them a dopamine hit when they went off the deep end. Rewrite who they were as people to be nothing but hate-crazed Tauran-killing machines. To get an edge in their pointless _fucking _war. A war, by the way, that the human race was _already winning._”

Donna was looking at him in wide-eyed horror.

“They’re brainwashing me- future me- into hatin’ Taurans. That’s what this thing was programmed to do. That’s why he was screamin’ in his sleep. It’s tryin’ to churn out another soldier for a STUPID **_FUCKING_ WAR** THAT **_ENDED TEN! FUCKING! YEARS! AGO!” _**the Doctor howled, wheeling around and slamming his fist into the wall beside the computer with a feral roar that shook Donna to her core.

He stopped, looking at the spiderweb of cracks snaking out from the wall, and grabbed at his head, sinking to the floor.

Donna crouched down beside him and wrapped her arms around him, giving a tight squeeze, fingers curling into the leather. The Doctor dropped his hands into his lap, still on his knees, breathing heavily.

“Doctor?” she whispered, looking over his shoulder- he was staring at the chair, staring through it, jaw slack and eyes wide.

The Doctor felt his timeline split before his eyes, split into two branches with a million variations. The first branch was simple- they got the helmet off in time. Everything was fine, or rather everything was a horrendous disaster masquerading as fine. But his future self was fine. The second fork, though-

The Doctor closed his eyes, wrenching himself away from the horrible images that flashed down that possible timeline. Of the man in pinstripes donning his coat and reaping the entire Tauran race, becoming the monster that stalked their nightmares. Of a broken, empty husk rampaging across time and space-

He tore himself away from the horrible visions, blinking a few times. Donna had her arms around him, and was holding him tight.

“He might not be alone in there,” she whispered, “Remember that- other me? The thing that was me and you? She’s in there with him, now. Whoever she is. She’ll- she’ll get him out.”

“You can’t know that.” He snapped back.

“It’s all I’ve got.” Donna replied matter-of-factly, “It’s the only hope we’ve got.”

The Doctor nodded, reaching out and wrapping a strong arm around her shoulder.

They both sat on the cold tiles in silence, waiting. Waiting for a miracle.

The data slate in the corner beeped- the transfer was done. All the relevant files from the mainframe were stored in its pathetically small petabyte hard drive.

The Doctor stared at it, and stood on shaky legs, stumbling over to scoop it up. Plug it into the computer they’d been using. Offload the document they’d been looking at.

He was just going through the motions, then, dumbly obeying the emotionless Time Lord in the back of his brain that sometimes squeaked through for these mechanical acts. Pick it up, unplug, carry to computer, find cable, plug in, transfer file. Was wireless file transfer possible? Yes. Did he want to fuck around with passwords and wireless and fingerprints when he could just stab a cable in like a human ape and be done with it?

The apes had a point, sometimes.

The orders from the Surgeon General were on the data slate in seconds, and the Doctor went to go sit next to Donna. Numbness consumed him.

Nothing was okay.

And then-

Panic.

The robots outside all turned and started to move away from the doors, and from his standing position through the frosted glass-

The Doctor caught a flash of golden-blonde hair in the distance, running away from the laboratory doors.

“Oh, fuck.” he muttered, those two words the understatement of the century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go! This chapter was a DOOZY. If you liked it, hated it, or now want the UHA to scramble my brains, leave a comment! I read and enjoy them all. Any bits you liked or hated? Let me know! 
> 
> Also, it’s almost exam time and my stash of backlog chapters is a bit sparse, so it’s likely I’ll be excising the Monday(ish) update until at least mid-December. Fridays though, I WILL update, time permitting. Thanks for following along!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose's rescue doesn't go entirely as planned...

The plan was simple.

The Doctor was trapped on the bottom deck of the ship, on Deck 5. She just needed to lure the robots back towards the elevators, climb in herself and slam the doors, ride it back up to deck 3, pray to god the robots followed her using their own service elevators…

Rose gulped as she stood in front of the elevator doors, biting her lip as she watched the elevator crawl slowly upwards on the readout above the closed doors. She had a funny feeling that the service elevators for the Orderlies, the ones the map had said would be concealed in the walls, wouldn’t be nearly this slow…

Rose pulled the keycard she’d filched out of her pocket, looking it over. It glimmered gold after she wiped the dust and long-dried blood off, and the word printed across it was COMMANDER.

The elevator controls were fairly simple- two buttons, but then above that was a small bar, glowing red. And above that, a screen- currently displaying the message ELEVATOR SPEED REDUCED TO SAVE POWER, WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE. Had it been travelling at a crawl all this time?

On a hunch, Rose tapped the bar with the card.

The bar flashed green, and the screen flashed the words ELEVATOR SPEED INCREASED. APOLOGIES, COMMANDER TORBYN.

Rose watched as the elevator shot up to her floor, and a second later the doors opened with a loud DING. She stepped inside- and they didn’t immediately close behind her. In fact, they stayed open for a painfully long time- a dangerously long time, if those robots were as fast as the Doctor claimed…

On the inside of the elevator, under the panel with the five buttons to select the correct deck, was another bar for a keycard.

Rose tapped it and jabbed the “close door” button- and lo, the doors closed, instantly. And the bar was still green, so maybe-?

She jabbed the button for the fifth deck, and let out a yelp as the elevator plummeted so fast the contents of her stomach leapt into the air. It was like being on a rollercoaster, but ten times worse-

And then the elevator slowed and came to a gradual stop, the mirrored silver doors opening and disgorging Rose into a dingy, pipe-lined hallway.

She swallowed and stepped out, turning to the left- towards the cargo bay.

Rose pressed herself against the wall at the sight of the horde of robots swarming around the tall white tower at the end of the room. The Doctor was trapped in there with Donna- and the robots were _so much scarier_ than she thought they’d be. Waving tentacles, bumping into each other, so tall-

Rose swallowed and gritted her teeth.

_She’d stared down a Dalek and lived to tell the tale. _

She’d stared certain death in the face, so many times over, that these fucking things weren’t going to phase her- and they CERTAINLY weren’t going to get _her _Doctor.

Not like they’d gotten Pinstripes.

Jack’s words floated into her mind- she couldn’t well tell him if he was having his brains cooked on a skillet, could she?

Rose steeled herself and lunged into the cargo bay, charging across so she was parallel with the mainframe, and then turning and running straight for the robots.

“OI! NUTS AN’ BOLTS! OIIII! LOOK! LOOK AT MEEE!” she yelled, waving her arms as she ran, “LOOK AT ME, LOOK, I’M MOVIN’ AND I’M OUT OF A CELL, OIIII!!!”

Instantly all eleven robots wheeled around to look at her, and Rose skidded to a halt.

“Please remain calm,” the machines chorused in unison as they charged towards her, “All will be well. Please relax and we will take care of you.”

Rose ran.

She careened headlong into the hallway with the elevators, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure the robots were still following her, and they were, and oh, oh GOD THEY WERE SO FUCKING FAST

She jabbed a thumb into the button and the elevator doors slid open, but they weren’t caught up enough, not yet, not yet-

Rose yanked the keycard out of her pocket and dove into the elevator, slamming the gold card against the pad and stabbing at the button to close the doors in a panic- waving, crunching tentacle-arms were reaching for her, and she could see her eyes reflected in the faceplates-

The doors slammed shut in an instant, and she jabbed the button for the third deck.

As the elevator shot up, she pulled out her phone and speed-dialed him.

* * *

The instant the robots cleared off, Donna ran for her tinfoil hat and beanie. The Doctor was pacing back and forth in front of the doors like a caged animal, teeth clenched, whipping his head up to stare out the doors every half-second like he was waiting for something. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, glaring at it like it was personally responsible for putting Rose in danger.

And Donna did not have ANY time for this man and his machismo. Not a half a second spare.

“Doctor! Put this on you bloody lunatic, we’re not going anywhere without you in this!” she barked, rushing over to him and attempting to jam the tinfoil part of the contraption onto the Doctor’s head. He wasn’t holding still, brain off contemplating the fucking meaning of life or something, and Donna just barely managed to jam the tinfoil part on his sizeable melon-

Which, as she swiftly realized, was quite a bit bigger than hers. It barely fit- it was like trying to gift-wrap a globe with a sheet of printer paper- and the Doctor (though he’d stopped pacing) still had ACRES of exposed forehead and whatever else-

She attempted to smooth it down, flatted it out a bit, but he was a head taller than her, and just as she was attempting to mash the sides into place-

_“And now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits-“ _crooned out from the Doctor’s phone, and before the tune could complete he’d already jabbed the button to answer, tipping his head forwards- and Donna gasped.

The tinfoil tore in her hands. A gash about three inches long, from the base of his skull up. She’d been gripping onto the sides, trying to push it into shape, and the sudden movement had torn the crumpled and weakened tinfoil, and now there was a gap in the protective metal layer-

“Rose?!” the Doctor spluttered, and oh yeah, barely a second had passed, and Rose was beaking off somewhere down the line-

“You sped it up?” he echoed, “I- alright. You’re safe? You’re alive-“

The Doctor’s eyes went wide in shock, and he pulled the phone back, staring at it.

“She hung up on me!” he yelled, and Donna just shook her head and jammed the beanie on overtop of the tinfoil hat.

“We need to get out of here,” he said, turning towards the door, and Donna grabbed his arm, looking him in the eyes. She could see panic in there, panic and terror, fear for his favourite human-

“It tore,” Donna said flatly, “The tinfoil. It tore while I was trying to put it on you-“

She could see the wheels turning in his head. And then the Doctor’s expression hardened.

“…Doesn’t matter,” he grunted “It’ll- it’ll be fine. We don’t have time for this. We have to go, NOW.”

Somehow, Donna didn’t buy it.

He grabbed her hand and they charged out of the lab, the Doctor sonicking the door lock and kicking it wide open. They sprinted across the empty cargo bay, across the polished floors, and stopped just short of the hallway to the elevators. Backs pressed to the wall, and the Doctor poked his head around the corner, just a little bit, just to see-

He looked back at Donna and jerked his head.

“They’re gone. She’s lured them away.”

“Oh, brilliant,” Donna snapped. The Doctor lunged into the hallway, jabbing the button to call the elevator with a primal fierceness in his stance; he stood back impatiently, folding his arms and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Donna bit her lip. There was one of those brain-scanners on the ceiling overhead, and it had moved in its cradle to fix on the Doctor.

She pulled her head away, looking at the numbers above the elevator doors, watching as it crawled from 3…to 4…and then slowly down towards 5…

They were running out of time.

Donna palmed her sonic screwdriver, double-checking she’d set it right, and bit her lip again.

The doors DINGED open, and they rushed inside without another word.

* * *

“Conversation” implied they’d talked a little, chatted it out, had a chin wag.

That wasn’t a conversation- Rose had just barked something along the lines of “HIDOCTORI’MINTHELIFTMADEITGOFASTERNOTIMETOTALKBYE!” and hung up on him, because the superfast lift had already taken her to the third deck of the ship.

She burst out through the open doors, and this was when the plan really came into its own.

Two hallways running the length of the ship on this deck. If she went right, she’d be in the hallway that would lead straight to the future-Doctor and Jack, and a dead end- the future Doctor’s TARDIS was blocking the way. But if she went left, she’d be in the hallway on the other side of the ship- and just down that hall from the elevators was another hallway connecting the two sides of the vessel. Conveniently plugged up by her Doctor’s TARDIS, the perfect barrier to evil robots hell-bent on sticking them all in cells so the computer could eat their brains.

Rose turned left and BOLTED, running to the middle of the T-intersection and standing there, waiting, waiting, waiting-

Doors slid up from the walls opposite the elevator, large slots disgorging the robots like horrifying confetti. And she stood there at the T-junction, staring straight down the hallway at them, and did the stupidest thing she could have done.

Yelled and started waving her arms.

She had no other choice.

The robots all turned to face her, and not all of them had come up from the depths yet, but-

There wasn’t a lot of hallway to play with, and Rose waited only a few seconds, watching the wall of death approach her, the arms waving and crunching, the treads whirring against the smooth floors, and she could see her own face reflected in the headpieces-

“Please remain calm,” they chorused out of time, like some sort of demonic nursing team, “all will be well…”

And Rose booked it. She turned right down the hall, in the same direction as the throbbing engines and the hallway, and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Shoes slapped on the hospital floors, whirring machinery and her own ragged panting the only sounds she heard. The second intersection loomed up ahead, and she speared left to turn down it, the horde on her back-

The hallway was dimly lit, but she could see it, she could see her salvation looming ahead of her- the TARDIS, the blue police box, and it was time for every second of her gymnastics training to come back to her because she needed all of it and she needed it all RIGHT **FUCKING _NOW._ **

Rose took a flying leap at the box, fingers hooking into the POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX signs and yanking herself up by her fingertips, muscle pain warring with terror-shocked adrenaline strength and losing almost instantly. She dug her toetips into the weird depressions in the wood, driving herself up, up, and then again, and hook in the next toe on the microscopic toehold, and, and-

The light-!

She reached for it, grabbing it, pulling it to her chest and hauling herself up onto the slightly-sloped roof, just out of reach of the swaying forest of nylon-coated tentacles that had sprouted up behind her.

Rose sucked in a breath, pulling her legs away from the lip of the roof, and took stock of what had just happened.

She was sitting on the roof of the TARDIS- and when was the last time ANYONE had ever sat up here under normal gravity?- and her plan had worked. Her stupid, harebrained plan had WORKED.

Rose flopped back on the roof with a groan, going very still. Taking a minute to catch her breath. She was safe. The Doctor was safe. They were all safe.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Just down the hall, off to the right, Jack was waiting with the future Doctor. And her Doctor would be here soon, and- and they’d sort this all out, and go home, and she could tell him. She could tell him how she felt.

Perfect. Everything was coming up aces today.

And then treads started to whirr from the silent forest of machines.

Rose jerked her head up, eyes going wide- the robots were BACKING AWAY from the TARDIS!

They were going to leave the hallway, go back around-

Jack. Donna. The Doctor. _The OTHER Doctor._

“HEY!” she yelled, standing up and waving her arms. The slanted roof had her wobbling crazily, but it worked- the robots turned back and crowded around the back end of the TARDIS again, clustering against the ship and looking at her expectantly.

Oh, fuck no. She had to keep moving?! What the hell- WHY HADN’T THEY WANDERED OFF WHEN THEY WERE HEMMING THE DOCTOR IN, THEN?!

Rose started frantically waving her arms, eyes wide. Her body was screaming for a break- all that sprinting, all those gymnastics lifts and pulls, and now she had to dance on top of the TARDIS for God only knew how long?!

**“JACK!” **Rose screamed down the hall in a panic,** “JACK- OH GOD, JACK _PLEASE HELP ME!”_**

* * *

“JACK!” Rose’s voice echoed down the corridor desperately, and Jack ran out of the cell with barely a glance back at the future Doctor. He scrambled down the hall and around the T-bend, looking up at Rose on top of the TARDIS, dancing and waving her arms.

“Rosie! You alright!? What’s the situation?!” Jack yelled, panic on his voice.

“No!” Rose groaned, “M’ EXHAUSTED, Jack. I can’t keep this up for much longer. The robots- they- I got ‘em, they’re all here, but if I stop moving they’ll come around and get us all, an’-”

She was waving her arms and shaking her torso, and it was giving Jack an idea.

“You wanna tap out?” he said, “I can take over if you want- someone just needs to stand up there and move around so they stay put?”

“YES. FUCK. Please, oh God please get up here,” Rose groaned, “Jack, I can’t do this any more-“

“Alright, hang on a sec-“ Jack raced into the TARDIS, charging down the corridor and stumbling into one of the side rooms. The TARDIS sent a pang of worry into the back of his mind, and he saw the stepladder in front of him- she knew what he needed.

“Thanks, babe!” he yelled at the ship, grabbing it and racing back out. Swing the door open, OUTWARDS, prop it open with the stepladder, climb up, the door propped open behind him-

“Jack!” Rose nearly sobbed, “Oh thank god-“

Jack stood up on the roof, waving at all the robots, and then grinned at Rose wickedly.

“Get back to Pinstripes before he wakes up. I got this.” he said with a sly wink; he mentally reached out for the TARDIS, asking her for a little favour, and with the door open she was only too happy to provide.

Rose slid off the roof and onto the stepladder with a grateful groan. She sat down at the floor in front of the TARDIS, taking a second and a few deep breaths, feeling the strength flowing back into her body. Just a few seconds more. Just to catch her breath and get the tiredness out of her bones. Not exhaustion, not by a long shot, but-

Rose stood, stretching her aching arms and fingers, taking a few steps down the hall. The Doctor in Pinstripes needed someone standing by his side in case he woke up.

A screaming stream of swears and babble echoed down the hallway, slicing through Rose’s reverie, and the voice was unmistakable.

The Doctor was screaming in terror.

“DOCTOR?!” Rose yelled, adrenaline flooding her veins as she charged toward the source- _Her_ Doctor was yelling, and he sounded utterly fucking **_terrified._**

* * *

The Doctor said nothing on the elevator ride up, playing with his sonic screwdriver, fiddling between the settings. Shifting from foot to foot, he was like a panther in a packing crate, a caged animal that just wanted to run and run.

The doors dinged open, and the Doctor’s head whipped up. His hearing was better than hers, and if Donna strained her ears, she could hear the faint sound of Rose, yelling for help.

The Doctor took off like a shot, turning sharply away from the elevator, running down the hallway towards the sound of Rose’s voice.

Donna ran after him, sparing a glance up at the scanners in their cradles, coming to life and tracking the Doctor’s movements as he ran down the hall. They raced past the blank walls, towards the cells, and Donna’s heart seized-

He was so much faster than her, and she could see the scanners on the ceiling tracking, turning to follow him, just like they had _before-_

“DOCTOR!” she screamed, desperation pounding through her veins, and they were getting close to the junction, getting close now to Leather Jacket’s TARDIS, getting close-

The Doctor ignored Donna’s voice. It wasn’t important. He’d be fine, he’d be fine, everything would be fine if he just got to Rose-

The Doctor smashed facefirst into a shockingly strong glass door that flew open right in front of him, and he recoiled back from it, eyes wide. His own reflection stared back at him, a bit of blood leaking out of his nose, the imprint of his skin on the glass, and for a moment he was stunned, what, what-

Why was Donna screaming so loud-?

“DOCTOR! GET BACK!” she roared, and he took a step back towards her voice, whipping his head to look-

“Please remain calm. Treatment will begin shortly.” A gentle female voice said from a speaker overhead, and the Doctor’s hearts seized.

Something wrapped around his wrist with the gentleness of a bullwhip cracking across his skin- a long robotic arm, stronger than steel, yanking him away from the hall, pulling him into the empty cell whose lights had just flicked on-

The Doctor’s eyes locked on the helmet on its motors, extending from the ceiling, moving down and towards him; at the arms sliding out of slots on the wall, at the bed sliding across to accept his body, and he let out a primal screech of absolute terror.

Time itself was forking in front of his eyes, slamming hammers of terror into his mind; if he got caught now, if he got CAUGHT, it was curtains, it was, it was-

A vision of the future he was unwillingly making flashed before his eyes. Cloister bells pealed in his mind, the Reapers descended on the ship to rip and tear, the universe unravelled around him as time itself bled from the wound. The paradox that was speeding towards him hurt, physically and mentally HURT, slamming his face into a brick wall and grinding it along the rough stones while he screamed for mercy.

He stabbed his sonic screwdriver into the arm in a panic, screaming and thrashing and howling, babbling and swearing and pleading, and the arm slumped dead-

AND FOUR MORE SHOT OUT OF THE WALL AND GRABBED AT HIM, BOTH WRISTS, ONE LEG-

Donna lunged in like an avenging angel, sonic screwdriver set to kill machines, slashing and stabbing, but only one of the arms slumped, and the fourth one shot out and slammed her into the far wall by the chest-

The Doctor dug his heels in, straining, eyes wide as they dragged him towards the cell.

“No, NO, **NO-** OH FUCK-**_NO!”_** he howled, his voice cracking as the arms pulled him inexorably closer to that cold steel skullcap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's exam time, so updates are going to be Fridays-only for a bit. 
> 
> Anyway, as per usual, if you liked it, if you hated it, leave a comment! let me know your thoughts. A big thank you to everyone who's been following this thing so far- hopefully the slowdown isn't too painful. See you next week!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten struggles to cope as his reality comes apart at the seams...

The Doctor was about to stab the Tauran through the face. His control over his time stream slipped, the shock of watching Donna _regenerate _snapping him out of his mad frenzy. It was impossible- she was a HUMAN, she was just a regular ordinary HUMAN, humans couldn’t possibly-

But then Rose’s voice, screaming for help- it tore through his layers of thought, forcing him back into action. The trance was shattered, and the world was speeding up around him, and the Tauran was still on its feet-

Hate burned through him, consumed his thoughts and dragged them down into the deep inky blackness. The Tauran was still alive, and more importantly, it was _threatening Rose. _

He hefted up his blade again to lop its head off, like he should have done in the first place, like he would have done had Donna’s voice, coming from nowhere, not shattered his trance. But she was dead, she was dead, so what was-

And then something slammed into him from behind, something solid and _alive, _and the Doctor tumbled off his feet and onto the lawn on his front, the sword still in his grip. He grunted; the heavy thing was on top of him, and he moved to throw it off, glancing up over his shoulder-

Ice-blue eyes looked down at him, boring into his soul; a tight, angry scowl surrounding the winter-cold glare piercing right through him.

The Oncoming Storm retreated, slightly; his mind cleared, the hate and anger subsiding. The tangy taste of antiseptic and cold steel that had been prickling his tongue went away as he swallowed the last of it down; silence filled his mind for a moment, and-

The Doctor sucked in a breath. Let it out slowly.

Then another. Then another. Great greedy gulps of air, like a man starved for it, desperate for it.

And with each one, the fog cleared. The Oncoming Storm growled, swirling back into its cage, the door slamming behind it, the lock clicking into place. He blinked, sparks and fury clearing from his eyes, and-

Those cold blue eyes were still looking down at him, one hand fisted in the back of his overcoat, one knee digging into his back.

“Donna?” he gasped, blinking in confusion.

She shook her head.

A scream tore through the Doctor’s contemplation, and he jerked to his feet, easily shoving Not-Donna off his back. Rose leaped into his arms, and he held her close, and his eyes locked onto the standing Tauran-

**“ACTIVATING TRANSMAT,” **the two living Taurans intoned, and there was a blinding flash of light-

“NO!” the Doctor screamed, wheeling around the yard.

Everyone was gone. The Taurans had activated their transmat beam and spirited everyone- Mickey, Martha, Sarah Jane, the UNIT people, Wilf- Everyone except himself, Rose, and- and-

He spun around to look at Not-Donna, fury- his _own_ fury this time- blazing in his eyes.

“You,” he hissed, “You- you stopped me! You distracted me! I- THEY’RE ALL GONE NOW! BECAUSE OF _YOU!” _he thundered, “I WAS THIS CLOSE, AND YOU-“

“You murdered someone.” Not-Donna replied smoothly, gesturing at the bloodstained sword he was still clutching in his hands, “You wanted to kill them all, and you were starting to like it, weren’t you?”

The Doctor reeled back, stunned. He- no, he HADN’T liked it. There was a part of him that…HAD, that HAD been enjoying it, but- it hadn’t been- he-

Rose came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his stomach, pressing his back to her front.

“You were tryin’ to save us,” she said softly, “you were TRYING to help.” She gave him a hug, a strong squeeze, and the Doctor’s shoulders slumped.

The sword tumbled out of his fingers and hit the grass. He was covered in blood, Tauran blood, and everyone was gone, and Donna-

“You regenerated,” he said accusingly, “And I’ve- You’ve been fucking following me. Who are you? WHAT are you? Donna? _What have you done with Donna?”_

She hummed thoughtfully at that question, folding her arms, just like HE used to.

“Doctor,” Rose hissed, sliding around so she could curl into his side, “She’s not Donna. Donna’s _dead.”_

“She’s right,” Not-Donna said, folding her arms, “ ‘M not Donna. You can call me…”

She paused, thinking on it. Her blue eyes lit up, and she looked the Doctor in the eyes.

“You can call me… D-IX…no. Dee-eye-eks, not right. No, I’ve got it. You can call me _Dix.”_

She drew out the French word, her name sounding like _Dees;_ the perfect pronunciation didn’t gel with her accent or growly voice.

“Dix?” the Doctor repeated, “But that’s-“

Dix quirked an eyebrow.

The Doctor went silent.

“That still doesn’t explain what you are, or why you stopped me! They could be anywhere by now!” He snapped.

“That’s easy. I’m- I-“

Dix’s eyes went wide when she tried to speak, a gurgling, choking noise coming out of her throat. She whipped her head up, looking him in the eyes, her entire body shaking with the effort of trying to choke out the next word.

Rose giggled.

He looked down at the human curled into her side, and alarm bells were going off in his head. Rose was LEERING at Dix, a smug grin on her face; the two of them were staring at each other, and something-

Something was wrong. Something was really, really, REALLY wrong.

“She can’t tell you,” Rose hummed, looking up at him, “But I can. You know who I am, don’tcha, Doctor? Rose Tyler, your companion. She can’t even tell you what she is. She’s just wearing Donna’s body, that’s all.”

The Doctor shuddered.

“I’m not,” Dix growled, coughing a few times and straightening up, “Fuck me, didn’t realize it’d gag me like this- Look. I’m not Donna. An’ I’m here to help you.”

“Oh, and you did a BRILLIANT job of helping just now, didn’t you?” the Doctor snapped, “they’re all fucking gone, Don- Dix. They’re all fucking GONE!”

Dix folded her arms.

“Are you sure about that, _Doctor?”_

_“YES!” _he roared at her. He scooped up the sword, then grabbed Rose’s hand and ran towards his TARDIS. Bootfalls on the grass behind told him all he needed to know- that Dix, like it or not, was coming with him.

“Leave her here,” Rose hissed, “She’s not Donna. She’s wearing Donna’s skin. She’s the reason those Taurans took everyone away…”

The Doctor frowned. Hold on, how did Rose know those were Taurans? Had he told her what a Tauran looked like?

The Taurans hadn’t said what they were, he realized dimly. _He_ hadn’t said what they were. So how did Rose know…?

He slammed into the TARDIS doors and straight through, Rose and Dix following a second later. He caught that cold blue gaze a second later, Dix quirking an eyebrow like she knew exactly what he’d been thinking about.

“She’s not coming on board,” Rose hissed, “You! Mickey’s DEAD because of YOU! We should just-“

She turned to the Doctor and stabbed a finger at Dix.

“We should throw her into a black hole,” Rose hissed, “We lost Mickey, and Martha, and Jack, and- and EVERYONE! And it’s all HER FAULT!”

“Funny,” Dix said in her rumbling growl, the TARDIS door shutting behind her, “That doesn’t sound like something Rose would say.”

The Doctor blinked a few times.

Rose wanted Dix to die in the most horrible fashion possible-

Yeah, okay, he’d fire that train of thought on the backburner and deal with the immediate issue RE: their friends.

He turned away from the catfight in the entryway and strode over to the console, eyes narrowed.

The sword got stabbed into a scanner slot on the console, and he tapped a few buttons to lock on to the nearest match for the DNA on the blade. And yep, there was the Tauran mothership, about to jump into hyperspace.

Right, well, that wouldn’t do.

A few button presses, and he yanked the lever to dematerialize and fling them into the vortex. A vicious snarl crossed his face, rage building up inside him and threatening to spill over. Something cold and metallic pricked at the back of his brain, reminding him of what these- these _Taurans, _these _animals,_ had taken from him-!

First the ragtag family he’d found himself, and then they were going to use those humans to breach the shields on Gallifrey and try to take THAT away from him, too?

He wasn’t losing Gallifrey. Not a second time. And he sure as _FUCK _wasn’t losing Martha. He wasn’t losing Jack, he wasn’t losing Sarah Jane, he wasn’t losing ANY of them.

_Even if he had to erase their entire species from history to do it-_

A hand, a COLD hand, planted itself on his shoulder and squeezed. A hand that wasn’t running at normal human body temperatures.

“Doctor,” Dix growled, and he snapped out of his trance, gasping a little. Like he’d been holding his breath without realizing it. A few gasps, and the frenzy cleared-

“I- Yeah. Sorry about that.” He spluttered, “Don’t know what’s come over me-“

They were shadowing the ship through the vortex, following its linear time track; not a complicated job for the TARDIS, not even in the top five most complicated things she’d ever had to do. A quick scan of the Tauran ship for humans, and-

“They’re all still alive,” he said, deflating with relief, “We could land on board, break them out-“

“…And get shot to pieces?” Rose grumbled, “Doctor, I’m not- that’s a terrible idea. We can’t do that.”

He looked over at Dix, looking for her input, and Rose hissed behind him in annoyance.

“What could she possibly have to contribute? She’s the reason all our friends are ON that godforsaken ship in the first place!”

Dix looked him in the eye and-

Started…whistling?

What-?

And then his eyes went wide.

She was whistling along to the Song of Time- the melody in the back of his head, the song his people were singing. The tempo was increasing- the collective mind was turning from intellectual thoughts to thoughts of fear and worry, a turn in the song that he’d heard before the Time War-

Wait.

Wait, wait, Dix was whistling along to the melody, and it-

“Sound familiar, Doctor?” she said softly, licking her lips and continuing to whistle along to the song he was hearing in his mind-

He grabbed his head, nails digging into his scalp.

His head was throbbing, the music swirling in the back of his mind chafing up against his memories, his MEMORIES-

He threw his mind back, back before Rose, back to the beginning of the war, back to the song-

Pulled up the notes he’d heard, the notes he remembered, the melody of the music just before the War kicked off, the fear, the terror-

Hummed along, hummed the few notes he remembered from that long-distant time, hummed the melody-

And found himself humming in perfect sync with Dix.

Note-for-note, they matched. Her whistle and his hum, two people with the same tune.

His eyes went wide.

She was singing the Now. He was singing the Before. And they were singing the _exact same melody._

_The eternal, unending Song of Time, the song that never repeats…_

“It’s repeating-“ he whispered, “That’s impossible-“

“It’s possible. Whatever it is, it’s possible. Can we get back to rescuing our friends?!” Rose yelled, grabbing him by the shoulders and yanking him around to look him in the eyes.

“I-we’re following them. Wherever they go, we go- We’re not going to lose them.” He said, train of thought about the song, the whistling, everything else derailed sharply.

“Land on the ship!” Rose ordered, “I’m not waiting around any longer. Land on the ship, NOW!”

Rose was barking orders at him, and hadn’t she wanted to NOT land on the ship a minute ago- fuck, fuck, what was happening-

A pair of cool, strong hands shoved Rose’s fingers off his shoulders, and Dix pulled him around in a single shockingly strong move to stand behind her.

“That’s not happening,” Dix rumbled, glaring at Rose, “You just want him running in there with that sword, cutting heads off an’ getting covered in their blood, don’t you? You just want to send him in there until there’s nothing left to kill.”

Rose scowled.

“It’s better than nothing. What other plan do we have?!”

An alarm went off on the console, and the Doctor blinked several times. The TARDIS lurched slightly, just enough to unsteady her passengers- and he knew they’d already jumped out of hyperspace and back into realspace. Which, for a craft the size of the Tauran ship, making a jump of that distance, from Earth to wherever they were now, was-

Fucking impossible?

He strode over to the screen, tapping a few options to pull up a view outside, and stared at the sight before him.

Gallifrey, and the Taurans were distressingly close- almost within the orbit of the farthest moon. But more importantly, the Taurans had jumped across half the universe, from Earth to Gallifrey, in a couple of MINUTES. With FIFTY-FIRST CENTURY TECHNOLOGY THEY SHOULDN’T EVEN HAVE IN THIS TIME PERIOD.

“It’s not possible. This isn’t possible. This doesn’t make any SENSE!” the Doctor yelled.

Rose put a hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eyes.

“Does it matter if it doesn’t make sense?” she whispered, “We’ve got to save them, Doctor. We need to get on that ship before it’s too late.”

Dix just growled and folded her arms, glaring at Rose.

The Tauran ship was facing his homeworld, the glimmering, shining seat of the Time Lord’s power. It was wrapped in a gleaming, transparent golden shell, just the edges of which were visible, shimmering in the light from the twin suns.

The Taurans couldn’t see it. They should have seen nothing, because for anyone with technology on their level, it just _wasn’t there at all_.

So why were they getting closer and closer to it?

“What’s the gold glow around the edge there?” Rose asked, leaning into his side, and she was asking questions instead of making demands that didn’t make sense, but-

“Gallifrey- well, the whole system really, but mostly Gallifrey- has temporal shielding that moves it back and forth in time, just a few seconds, but it’s more than enough to keep anyone who’s not on our technological level from showing up. The Taurans CAN’T see Gallifrey, because it’s in the past or the future. WE can, because the TARDIS can keep up with the oscillations of the shields- and she even shows them on the monitor, that’s the golden glow you can see around the planet.” He sucked in a deep breath.

“They- they can’t even see it. They SHOULDN’T be able to see it. It’s impossible… but they’re still looking right at it.”

The Tauran ship started to glow gold, a bright ball of sickly green light building at the prow of the ship. It grew, and grew, like a star expanding into a red giant; the Doctor stared at the monitor in horror as lines of silver began to snake across the surface of the glowing sphere.

The sphere shattered into a trillion spiking bolts of lightning, focusing itself down to a horrible silver-green beam that blasted into his homeworld’s temporal shield. Alarms went off all through the TARDIS, the Cloister Bell pealing in terror, as his ship recoiled from the wound these Taurans had just dealt to Gallifrey and Time itself.

The golden shield fizzled once, rebounded for a fraction of a second, enough time for the Doctor’s hearts to clench in hope, and then-

It vanished, the edges of it spiralling away from the site of impact, the edges of it shattering as the impact rang out across the planet. Shards of it spiralled into space, winking out, and his people all SCREAMED in unison in the back of his mind, driving the Doctor to his knees.

He screamed with them, pain spiking through his brain- and with it, the taste of cold steel and antiseptic filled his mouth, and one emotion filled his thoughts.

Hate.

HATE.

** _ HATE. _ **

Visions danced in front of his eyes, the Dalek fleet, and he marched from the console, threw the TARDIS doors open-

Just in time to watch countless Tauran ships come out of hyperspace, the blackness of space marred by a swarm of metal wasps, flies, MAGGOTS, METAL FUCKING MAGGOTS-

_METAL FUCKING MAGGOTS KILL THEM ALL KILL THEM ALL- _

He marched over to the console, slamming the controls, shoving Dix aside without a thought, pushing Rose away with the same level of gentleness. That was a Dalek weapon, that was how they’d blasted apart the shields, and a quick scan of the Tauran flagship-

Human DNA on board.

Zero living humans.

They were all dead.

The Taurans had killed all his friends the second they were done with them.

The cold hate surged into his mind like a tsunami, washing away all the worries and fears he’d had, all the concern, all the nitpicking and incongruities. It didn’t _matter_ that it didn’t make sense. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered except destroying EVERY LAST FUCKING TAURAN THAT HAD _EVER FUCKING LIVED._

He cranked the TARDIS’s shields up to maximum, eyes locked on the console, yanking the stick to drive it through realspace. Target onto the flagship. Target onto the engines, the warp drive, the fuel tanks. Shields up. FULL SPEED, _RAMMING SPEED-_

She’d sail clean through them at a velocity that would make a bullet look like a butterfly, blowing the warp drive and imploding the entire ship. Sucking all the Taurans into a micro-mass black hole that would evaporate via Hawking radiation in a fraction of a second with an explosion big enough to wipe out a dozen, a HUNDRED more ships-

They’d live, they’d live with broken bones from the impact at the worst, and he’d ram every single ship out of the sky if it took him the rest of his regenerations and a thousand years. _They wanted to resurrect the Time War?_

** _HE’D SHOW THEM THE FUCKING TIME WAR. _ **

Anticipation, a tingle of excitement as fake as artificial cherry flavour, prickled at the back of his tongue; like the taste of medicine and metal, a taste as insincere as the feelings boiling in his brain. Eagerness stabbed through him, a giddiness so metallic he ALMOST stopped and let go of the controls-

And then Martha and Sarah Jane and Mickey and Wilf and Jack and UNIT and Donna’s family and DONNA AND _EVERY OTHER FUCKING PERSON HE’D LOST TODAY_ swam in front of his eyes, clouding his thoughts, and they were almost there, almost, almost-

And the grin that tore across his face, the insane laughter that bubbled out of him- it wasn’t, it wasn’t-

He was laughing, now, laughing with a glee he couldn’t explain, his hearts hammering with glee at what was about to happen- 

_This was fun. _

** _Why was this fun?! _ **

A leather-clad elbow slammed into his side, knocking him off-balance and onto the grating, Dix shoving him aside, and he tumbled, the steel rushing up to meet him, barely catching himself-

Dix yanked on the controls and the TARDIS pitched straight up at the last second, barely skimming the flanks of the Tauran flagship. They spiralled between countless warships, bleeding off speed; alarms screamed at her, the Cloister Bell clanged out like the beating of a human heart, and she slammed the lever to fling them into the vortex-

“NO!” the Doctor screamed, lunging at her, but he missed, and tumbled into Rose-

Dix was running around the console, setting buttons, pressing switches, silent and efficient, yanking them back from the precipice, and she pulled the lever again-

And the TARDIS landed with a violent shudder, flinging him away from Rose, leaving him lying on the grating in a tangled, bruised, broken heap.

He sprang to his feet, lunging for the doors-

The scene beyond them dredged up all his memories and damn near drowned him in them. The sky was on fire. The red grass was on fire. The psychic screams of his people rang out in his mind like claps of thunder; the silver city was burning, the silver-leaved trees were burning, _everything was burning-_

Taurans poured across the landscape like the tide coming in, blaster shots ringing out like the howls of the damned, the thundering beats of the drums of war that rang out in his mind.

He marched back to the console and ripped the sword out, storming towards the open doors; sparks glimmered in his eyes, the whole world starting to slow-

Dix’s hands tangled in the back of his coat and dragged him away from the door, hauling him back towards the console; pulling a thrashing, screaming, frothing Time Lord was no mean feat, and finally she gave in and wrapped her arms around him in a crushing hug. The sword clattered to the floor; nobody noticed.

His arms were pinned to his sides, her arms laced over his chest, her front to his back. The buttons of the U-boat captain’s leather jacket dug into his spine, and Dix growled and leaned in and whispered into his ear.

** _ “You would make a good Dalek.” _ **

Instantly, the hatred that was jabbing at his brain, the fury, the bloodlust, the rampaging desire to kill, kill, kill, kill until there wasn’t anything left, it drained out of him, his face falling and his eyes going wide. The Oncoming Storm scurried back into its cage and slammed the door behind it, whimpering in fear at what he’d become…

“I- I-“ he swallowed, and Dix let him go slowly, arms uncurling.

“She’s wrong. You should get out there an’ kill them all,” Rose hissed, “Make them all pay. They killed our friends. They’re destroyin’ Gallifrey an’ they’re comin’ for Earth next. Kill them-“

“Does that sound like Rose to you?” Dix growled, “Does Rose Tyler want her Doctor to be drenched in the blood of intelligent beings? Does she? _Did Rose Tyler stand aside and scream at the Doctor to kill that Dalek?”_

He shuddered, biting his lip and looking Dix in the eye.

“No,” he whispered, “No...”

The Doctor grabbed Dix by the lapels of her jacket, eyes wide and desperate.

“Who are you?! Why won’t you tell me who you are? _What do you want!?”_

Dix looked him dead in the eyes.

“I want you to wake up.” She replied, and the Doctor gasped a bit. Because she wasn’t doing the Northern accent anymore- she’d dropped it, entirely. But instead of Donna’s accent, Dix had gone full Estuary-

She was imitating HIM.

“LIAR!” Rose spat over the railing, snarling at Dix, “She’s trying to get us all killed! She’s the reason everyone’s DEAD and Gallifrey’s getting invaded! IT’S _ALL HER FAULT!”_

“Ignore her,” Dix said, still in his voice, “Do you know what you need to do?”

The Doctor shook his head, hearts cantering.

Dix pointed at the TARDIS console, and then gestured out the open door at Gallifrey.

“History repeats itself. Use your TARDIS…and end the War again.” she said, her scowl softening into a look of sorrow.

The Doctor froze, every muscle locking up. Rose was yelling something, and he didn’t hear her- didn’t hear any of it.

Dix rubbed his shoulders.

Looked him in the eye. Her gaze hardened just a bit.

“The fairy tale’s over, Sleeping Beauty. It’s time for you to _wake up.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams are over, hoorah. Not that it means the Monday update will be returning straight away, since finals did a number on my backlog- it's totally hollowed out. So, uh, Fridays only until I get that built back up, yeah? 
> 
> On the bright side, the ending's in sight now- we're in the home stretch. Are you ready? Are you? I'm not. 
> 
> Anyway, as per usual, if you liked it, if you hated it, or if you want me to take a Tauran sword through the sternum, leave a comment! I love all your comments, and I'm particularly excited to hear your thoughts on this one!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose works some stuff out. 
> 
> Donna is not impressed.

Rose ran harder than she’d ever run in her entire life.

She rounded the corner and kicked her sprint into overdrive, the sight of her Doctor screaming and thrashing on the other side of the glass driving daggers of fear into her heart. He was thrashing against the arms, desperately trying to keep himself out of the cell.

Her heart leapt when Donna came flying into the fray with the sonic buzzing away, stabbing it down with both hands like a dagger; plunging it deep, the arm jerking dead-

The elation shattered into ice-cold horror when another arm shot out of the cell and slammed Donna into the far wall, pinning her by the chest, knocking the breath out of her lungs and looping around to coil around the arm holding the screwdriver-

And then the Doctor REALLY started screaming, thrashing desperately, howling Donna’s name in pure, unadulterated terror. The arms picked him up off the ground, looping up and around, shifting their grip on his limbs and trying to turn him around, and Rose was a few steps from the door-

Her own reflection was running straight for her, lungs burning and sore, the faintest tang of blood on each ragged inhale- and Rose ignored it, hammering down her own fatigue and exhaustion, because the Doctor- her Doctor-

Rose leaped up just as the arms were dragging him towards the cell, turned around and thrashing and screaming. Donna was trying to wrench herself free, a death grip on her sonic screwdriver-

Rose poured every bit of strength into her running leap, fingers catching on the top of the glass door with a painful jerk. She swung her leg out, planting one trainer-clad shoe on top of the handle and using it as a springboard, one foot, then the other, balanced on a precarious slip of metal-

She threw her torso over the top, legs flailing madly, precious seconds slipping through her fingers like grains of sand-

**“ROSE!” **Donna and the Doctor screamed in unison- they were both shouting a mile a minute, and Rose swung her legs up and over in one graceless move, fingers still hooked into the lip of it, and she flipped around, letting her full weight hang on them, and-

Rose let go, falling the last little bit and landing on her feet, knees flexing to take the force of it, spinning around to face her Doctor, charging toward him, one step closer, then another-

He was thrashing, screaming, and another smaller arm had come out of the wall with little grippy prongs on the end, grasping the edge of the beanie and pulling it off. His arms and legs were splayed out like a picture of the crucifixion, his one free leg kicking and struggling for all it was worth. The arms were slowly lowering him towards a sterile white slab that had slid out of the wall, and the skullcap was waiting patiently over his head like a snake poised to strike-

“ROSE!” Donna roared, “CATCH!”

She grabbed the screwdriver in her pinned arm and threw it towards Rose with all her strength.

Time froze.

The sonic screwdriver tumbled through the air, high, too high, over her head- the Doctor’s last hope of salvation, glimmering silver spinning just out of reach. Rose jumped up, eyes locked on it, and thrust out a desperate hand.

In the space between heartbeats, her fingers closed around the smooth metal and she yanked it out of the air.

She landed, bounding into the cell with one massive, terror-shocked stride-

The Doctor was yelling something incoherent in a language the TARDIS wasn’t translating, and the skullcap was just descending onto his head, the machine humming as it prepared to plug him in.

Blue eyes locked on amber, terror on fury, and Rose lunged.

Her knees connected with the Doctor’s chest and the end of the screwdriver stabbed into the base of the helmet, at the plug connecting the wire cable to the smooth metal dome. Rose howled like a fury-torn gale, stabbing the helmet again and again, one hand grabbing the cable in a death grip-

Sparks flew off the metal, and with fifth jab, the whole thing seized up- and tumbled back towards the wall, electricity jolting off of it with angry zaps and pops.

The helmet hit the white cell floor with a forlorn CLANK, dozens of steel prongs sliding out of their slots a second later with a dissonant scraping of metal on metal as the thing died in its corner, like some sort of inverted hedgehog.

The arms were still latched onto his arms and leg, and Rose spun, jabbing them dead, one after another after another, all three of them slumping into the floor.

_“rose”_ Donna croaked, her voice a weak, airless rasp, _“help-“_

She threw herself off the Doctor’s chest, knocking another OOF out of him, and dove at the hole in the wall from which Donna’s arm was projecting. Stab the sonic in, stab it, stab it, STAB IT-

The arm died with a BZZTZ and a shower of sparks, instantly going slack and dropping to the floor. Donna followed it down, falling to her hands and knees and sucking in gasp after desperate gasp of air.

“Rose- Rose, I- You-“ the Doctor was saying, and now, now was NOT the time, because a slot on the wall was sliding open-

_“Please remain calm. An orderly will be there to assist you shortly.” _The gentle robotic voice from above crooned, and Rose didn’t care, didn’t care-

She grabbed his wrist, yanking the Doctor to his feet with a grunt and dragging him out of the cell. Donna staggered to her feet, still gasping for breath, and Rose grabbed the door of the cell, gave it an almighty jerk-

The Doctor elbowed in and grabbed the glass above her fingers, pouring his superior strength into a mighty pull that broke something in the hinges and forced it to swing closed. It hit the frame with a clang, and all three of them lunged, pinning it shut.

The Doctor buzzed the handle area with his screwdriver, panting and exhausted, until a magnetic CLANK indicated it was latched.

All three sank to the floor in unison, backs to the glass, staring out the window on the other side of the narrow hall.

For a few seconds, the only sound was shaky breaths drawn off-kilter, as they all tried to get their bearings back.

Rose slumped into the Doctor’s side, dizzy and worn out from all the running and jumping and leaping and stabbing. It felt like her lungs were being flayed from the inside out, and every single muscle burned with exertion. Her fingers hurt from where the glass had dug into them, and her entire body was just a mass of pain and suffering.

She burrowed into the leather jacket, eyes slipping closed as a strong arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“You saved me,” the Doctor panted, turning to look at her, “You saved my life. I could see the reapers comin’, I could see the paradox roarin’ toward us-”

She snorted.

“You say that like it’s something special,” she panted, craning her heavy head up to look at him with a weary smile.

Their gazes locked, eyes soft and fond, and Jack’s words floated through her mind as she looked at this man, this alien, this incredible person who she loved-

The Doctor stood, pulling her up to stand on shaky legs to stand beside him, catching her and supporting her weight.

“Um,” Donna said somewhere behind him, “We should really get back to my Doctor-“

Rose just nodded in blithe agreement, still lost in those pools of blue. She’d almost lost him. She’d almost lost him to a mad computer, in a grotty little cell on a grimy old ship. And someday, she really would lose him- forever, maybe, if the Doctor in pinstripes was any indication. 

The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder, opening his mouth to say something, to stammer out some excuse. She could see the wheels turning, and she didn’t need time senses to know that the timeline was diverging, that her window was closing. He was going to close himself up, lock away his feelings, and she’d almost lost him forever, lost his brilliant mind to a mad machine, and Rose wasn’t having it.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, and the Doctor raised an eyebrow, confusion dancing on his face for half a second-

She grabbed him by the sides of his head and pulled him in for a kiss, lips smashing together with a grunt of surprise from him and a soft hum from her.

The Doctor went rigid for about half a second, during which Rose’s heart seized. Did he not want this? Had she read it wrong? Did he not want this-?

And then he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her against his chest, all stiffness gone, eyes closed, pouring all of himself into the kiss, and Rose’s heart did a little flip. 

“Um- Rose- Doctor-“

He tasted like tea and spice and an ancient, electric flavour that Rose could only assume was Time itself. That swirling golden energy he’d had some name for that cantered through the TARDIS’s veins; it was there, in his mouth, ringing through his body and soul. And then he nipped at her bottom lip with a groan, one arm snaking up to stroke through her hair, and it was Rose’s turn to melt.

**“Rose. Doctor.** This is great, and I’m happy for you, but we’ve got a job we should be doing- and- hey- are you listening-!?“

Rose moaned when a very cool tongue slipped into her mouth, big calloused hands tangling in her hair. She gave as good as she got, fingers stroking down his broad back, pouring months of repressed emotion into the kiss, heart soaring; one of her hands slid around to his chest, pressing her palm flat. Under her fingertips she could feel his hearts pounding like a hummingbird’s wings, joy and relief and love and lust tangling between the two of them. He wanted her, and she wanted him. Rose sighed against him, plunging in deep, months of repressed longing and secret fantasies swirling up in her mind.

“Are you breathing through your bloody ears?! **_Rose! Doctor!”_**

A thought drifted to her as his thumb brushed the side of her head- _May I?- _and Rose wanted to shout yes, yes, of course, whatever he wanted,_ yes._ The man in her arms hummed, and the three little words he could never bring himself to say floated into her mind. And then more: the ideas, the sensations of the words, the memories tied to them; they unfurled in his language, like blooms opening in the morning sun. He loved her and loves her and will love her, for all eternity; the words she craved ringing out in his language in her mind. Rose whimpered. She never wanted to leave him, leave this, leave _them._

_You are my second heart _sang through the connection before his thumb slipped away, and the universe ceased to exist outside of this, them, this moment, these feelings.

** “OI! LOVERBOY AND BLONDIE! **JOB TO DO, YEAH? MY SPACEMAN’S STILL IN AN EVIL COMPUTER? YOU’RE STILL A SITTING DUCK? **YOU WANNA MAYBE PLAY HIDE-THE-SONIC _SOME OTHER TIME?!”_ **

Donna’s shouting smashed through the dreamlike daze they were floating in. They broke apart with a gasp, fingertips still trailing down the other, eyes snapping open together. Rose gasped, swaying a little at how long she’d been holding her breath. The Doctor wasn’t doing much better- he was breathing heavily, as though he’d just forgotten and let his respiratory bypass handle it. They both turned to face Donna, blinking and disoriented.

She had her arms folded and a scowl on her face, and she jerked her head back towards the other Doctor’s cell.

“I’m glad you’ve finally got yourselves sorted out, but if you wouldn’t mind, we’ve got a bloody JOB TO DO?!” Donna growled, “So could we put a pin in the fucking snogging ‘till my Doctor’s up an’ about, maybe?!”

The Doctor stared at her, blinking a few times as if he was trying to clear his thoughts.

“Right, fuck. Yes.” He said, looking down at the floor. Both he and Rose had dropped their screwdrivers during the impromptu snog, and he picked them both up and bit his lip, looking between them.

“Here,” the Doctor thrust one of them at Donna, “Think this one’s yours.”

“You _think?”_ Donna echoed incredulously, setting off at a brisk walk and throwing a judgemental glance over her shoulder, “Isn’t this going to bugger all of time up the arse if we stuff up this time…stuff?”

The Doctor shook his head. “It shouldn’t…if we haven’t heard from the Reapers yet, then the time loop’s still stable an’ we’ll be able to avoid a paradox.” He nodded, more to himself than anyone else, and tucked the sonic away before taking Rose’s hand in his own and following Donna down the hallway.

They were just approaching the T-intersection between them and the future-Doctor’s cell when Jack’s voice cut through the fragile calm, his boots slapping on the linoleum as he ran towards them.

The Doctor stopped, staring down the hallway at the human speeding towards them and his TARDIS, and quirked an eyebrow- mostly at the decidedly upbeat music echoing dissonantly down the creepy deserted hallway.

“Harkness, why in the name of all that’s good and graceful do you have the front door of my ship propped open, an’ more importantly, _why the fuck is She playing “You Give Love A Bad Name”?!”_

“Because I was twerking!” he yelled, “And that’s not important- the robots- they’re- they’re coming.” He slumped over, bracing his hands on his knees, and panted.

“…You were _twerking. _ON TOP OF MY SHIP.” The Doctor’s eyes were boring through Jack’s skull, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“The robots!” Jack yelled, “They follow movement. Someone had to stay up there and keep moving so they wouldn’t leave and go around and twerking to Bon Jovi was- THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT! They’re coming, they all just turned around at once, and they’re coming-“ Jack swallowed, looking back down the hallway, the one towards the elevators. Any minute now the Orderlies would come swarming around the corner of the second hallway-

“What do we do?!” Rose spluttered, looking at the TARDIS. Surely they could just…?

“We get back to my Doctor,” Donna said firmly, “I’m not leaving him.”

And with that she turned and strode away from them, past the TARDIS, towards the open cell door. The Doctor opened his mouth to argue-

“Please remain calm. All will be well. Please remain calm…” the placid voices echoed down the hallway in a demonic chorus, underpinned by the whirring of treads, and the three of them whipped their heads around to look at the encroaching wall of robots, coming on SO FUCKING FAST-

“DONNA!” the Doctor roared, running towards the open cell door, eyes wide and terrified- the door was open, she was inside the cell, and the sound of footsteps behind him meant Rose and Jack were running too-

He stopped himself by bouncing off the glass-polymer door with his shoulder and a grunt, rebounding and staggering into the room with eyes wide and wild. Donna was crouched by the future-Doctor’s head, playing with the screwdriver, and-

“Donna, we’ve- we-“ he started, only for Rose and Jack to careen into the small cell not half a second later. Jack grabbed the inside handle and hauled the door closed with a grunt, eyes wide and frantic, and the Doctor lunged, his sonic falling into his fingertips, change the setting, lock it up TIGHT.

There was a CLUNK as the magna-clamp activated and the door clicked closed, and not a second too soon.

The wall of robots hit them like a tide of writhing nylon tentacles, soulless glowing eyes on blank faces boring through the glass. They stared at the five people trapped inside, chorusing their endless empty platitudes as though that would entreat their prey to come out and play.

_“Please remain calm. All will be well. Please remain calm. Please remain calm. Please submit to treatment. Please cease resistance. All will be well.”_

The Doctor stood up shakily, pulling Rose into his side, staring out the glass door.

“We’re trapped,” Rose mumbled, “What do we do?”

The Doctor swallowed.

“I don’t know.”

And as if echoing the sentiment, the Doctor on the floor convulsed- and **_screamed._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, exams are over, but my laptop decided to shit itself to semi-death, hence the lack of a Monday update- I wasn't able to write. But all my tech issues are sorted, I didn't lose any of my files, so regular service will resume shortly, after I get my backlog reassembled. In any case, the end is nigh...
> 
> Anyway, if you liked it, hated it, or want me to fling myself over a plate glass door, leave a comment! Let me know your thoughts. I'm having a lot of fun with this fic, and I hope you are too.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten sifts through the evidence with Dix's help. But Rose has other plans for him...

Dix was staring at him with folded arms, her words echoing in the silence of the console room.

“End the Time War agai- No!” the Doctor roared at Dix, eyes wide and panicked. He couldn’t end the Time War the same way- not without the Moment, not like this- but he didn’t really have to. The Taurans weren’t a time-travelling species- all he really needed to do was blow up Gallifrey, again. For the _second _time, reducing his homeworld to so much rock and dust.

Dix was telling him to turn his TARDIS into a temporal bomb- set the main vortex reactor to go critical, rewire the artron-fusion coil so the polarity was reversed- he could do that from the main console, even, because the old Type 40 wasn’t set up with the same level of automation and the same degree of protection-

And he couldn’t.

Gallifrey reduced to rubble, by his hand, again. The Taurans- who knew how many Taurans would die? His species wiped from the universe again. The TARDIS wasn’t the Moment- but a black hole where once had been his home star system, that would be more than enough, the Taurans didn’t have time-travel technology…

And he couldn’t.

It would kill everyone- him, Rose, the Time Lords, his TARDIS, the Taurans, and Dix. Everyone would die if he did that. Everyone.

Dix folded her arms.

“You need to wake up.” She hissed again, “Think, Doctor, THINK. Think about what I’ve been telling you!”

He staggered over to the console, leaning on it. Mind racing, head aching as he tried to put all the pieces together.

“Start from the beginnin’.” Dix growled- she was standing right behind him, “Start from when you woke up on the floor of the console room.”

That was right. There had been something about a ship- Donna had written that off as a nightmare, getting grabbed by the arms. And then- Gallifrey, Rose…

The Song of Time. The Song of Time was repeating. The song in his mind was a Song he’d heard before- and that was impossible. The Song didn’t repeat- it could NEVER repeat. Never, ever, for all of eternity, forwards and backwards. It was as likely as dividing by zero. Even after the war, when he was all alone, the Song continued in him- his mind, singing into the void, alone and weeping for all he’d lost.

And even then, there’d been no repetition.

He shivered, and threw his thoughts forwards some more-

“The Library,” he whispered aloud. The Library and the collective mind of his people and the computer.

There’d been nothing below the surface- the collective mind had been an empty void, just a thin crust on top, as if to imply there was something, anything, below. An empty abyss where a galaxy of stars should have been swirling.

An awful suspicion clenched the Doctor’s guts, and he looked up at the TARDIS’s Time Rotor.

He reached out for her, mentally and physically, his fingertips hitting the cool glass of the rotor as he stretched his arm out. He brushed his mental fingertips along the edge of her consciousness- she was worried, afraid. Concern pulsed from her. He whispered _may I? _and it echoed against the edges of her thoughts, bouncing back at him in waves. The TARDIS hummed her assent, and it wove through him-

The Doctor lowered himself into the swirling sea that was the mind of his ship. He’d done this before many times-after all, she was his oldest friend, his constant companion. His fingertips broke the surface of the churning golden waves, and he plunged beneath, expecting the vibrant golden sea, resplendent in its glorious chaos; the mind of a being so entwined with all of time and space.

**She was empty. **

The TARDIS’s mind was _empty._ There was nothing- no endless churning golden waves, no uncountable possibilities; her transtemporal emotions didn’t swirl around him like shoals of fish. He sunk and sunk into a black abyss, boggling at the emptiness, the vapidity. The vacant, gaping hole where his ship’s mind should have been.

The Doctor pulled himself out with a gasp, eyes wide and hands shaking. He staggered away from the Time Rotor, fear shaking through him.

That was NOT his ship. That was NOT his TARDIS. His ship wasn’t a hollow husk.

He jerked his head to look at Dix, who just quirked an eyebrow and leaned back against the Console. Right next to where he’d been standing.

“Keep going.” Dix intoned, and he shivered.

The collective mind. The TARDIS was an empty shell and so was the collective. Then…then the book. The two books, the one that just told him things he already knew, and the one that was empty exactly where his own knowledge stopped…

All of it was adding up. All of it was painting a very clear picture of what was happening, where he was, what this place was…

“It wasn’t a nightmare, was it?” he said to Dix, hearts sinking to the floor in defeat. The ‘nightmare’ on the spaceship that Donna had so casually brushed off wasn’t the dream.

This place, this world…

“This is the nightmare,” he finished, answering his own question, and Dix nodded. Her expression softened, to the Doctor’s shock- the scowl vanished, and a broad smile crossed her face. She regarded him proudly, beaming at him. Her anger, her fury, it just melted away like snow in the sunshine.

His expression darkened and he marched over to the console.

He started to pull at levers and flip switches, fiddling dials and setting the timer, dinging the bell and trying to remember all the steps- the hum of his ship changed pitch, from concern to fear, and he couldn’t blame her. Well, the _thing_ pretending to be her, at any rate-

A pair of arms wrapped around his chest from behind him and he froze.

Rose was pressing herself against him, against his back, and her voice was molten honey as it wrapped around him.

“Doctor?” she purred, “Are you _sure_ you want to do that?”

“I-“ he could FEEL her through his coat and suit, radiating warmth. Her perfume wrapped around him like a blanket, and her hands played with the hem of his shirt, confusion and affection and fear at the cold empty life he’d have to go back to tangling inside his mind-

Rose spun him around, and he could faintly hear Dix’s growling off to the side- but whatever she was saying didn’t penetrate the fog that was swirling around his head. Rose’s eyes filled his vision- all he could see was her, clouding his thoughts, his judgement.

“You’re going to leave me?” she sniffed, and his hearts broke at the tears welling in her eyes-

A taste welled up on his tongue, a tang in the air. Cold, yes, and clinical, but this one was the vileness of fake banana-flavoured medicine- hard edges from something meant to soften the blow. The emotions that welled up in him were love and affection and concern, and none of them tasted right in his mouth-

“Rose-“ he croaked, shaking his head and struggling to shake off the fog. But nothing was dislodging it, and a wave of happiness tainted with the taste of antiseptic broke over his tongue, over his mind, over his thoughts-

“If you listen to her,” Rose purred, “you’ll never see me again. I’ll be dead and gone, Doctor. You don’t want to lose me again.”

Her eyes were so big. His head was all fuzzy and muddled. Cold fear- real fear, HIS fear, was prickling at the base of his sternum, only to be smothered in another wave of _Rose…Rose…Rose…Rose…_

He nodded dumbly, train of thought well and truly derailed. A hand- a COLD hand- planted itself on his shoulder, tried to jerk him, and Rose dug her nails into his back.

“_Say it.”_ she hissed.

“I don’t want to lose you again.“ he croaked automatically- jaws slack, gaze locked on her eyes, why couldn’t he think, why couldn’t he _get away from her- _

Rose stroked the side of his head, a wave of _pleasure-warm-happy _smashing into him with all the grace of a garbage truck. It filled the air with the tang of steel and medicine, spikes and fake chemicals-

Another stroke and he was starting to sink against her, sink to the floor, sink into the cold abyss-

_“Kill her. Kill her. She wants to take you away. She wants us to be apart. Kill her.”_ Rose was whispering- but her lips weren’t moving, was she speaking in his mind. Like she was telepathic.

Okay. Yes. Okay.

A smile started to prickle at the corners of his mouth; he was shaking, trying to quell the tremors that were making his head and his hearts hurt-

_Something was wrong something was wrong something was _

She pulled him in for a kiss and he couldn’t think why it, why SHE didn’t taste right but the fear was there in the back of his mind and he wanted it gone go away go away _GO AWAY something was wrong _**nothing was wrong**_ something _**nothing**_ something-_

Hands were pulling at his shoulders, now, ice cold ones, and there was a yelp like someone was getting burned, and he couldn’t- couldn’t-

Her tongue was tangled with his, his fingers were knotted with hers, a thoughtless wave of Goodness and Rightness and Wanting, so much Wanting, washing away everything else.

_“The universe took me away,” _Rose purred without moving her lips_, “I’m back, now, Doctor. I’m yours. We’ll be together, forever. I promised, didn’t I? Forever and ever. All you need to do is kill her. Kill her. Kill her and have me, forever…”_

His hearts stuttered.

**Forever**.

That…sounded…so…good…

Yes…

_Yes yes yes he’d do it he’d-_

The Doctor pulled back, still mesmerized by her eyes and unable to look away. He was smiling droopily, eyes half-lidded and posture slack. He opened his mouth to agree, to tell Rose he’d do anything, anything she wanted, the taste of steel overpowering, all he could taste, all he could smell-

What came out of his mouth instead was a pained SCREAM.

An impending paradox somewhere nearby smashed against his time sense like a sledgehammer. Pain exploded through the fog, the miasma- the taste of iron and medicine vanished in an instant, replaced by fear- HIS fear.

A vision filled his eyes of arms hauling him into a cell- like the one in his nightmare, like the one on the ship- and he heard his voice, a thick Northern burr screaming for help- Donna pinned to the wall by an arm and all reality spiralling in on the paradox, and the Doctor- BOTH Doctors- screamed in unison.

_The reapers were coming **the reapers were coming **_

He could hear the cloister bells ringing, he could hear the world ending around him, and he sank to the floor with a gasp- his time sense was in agony, shouting and stamping against his brain, and-

The vision ended and he sucked in a lungful of air with a great mighty gasp, the stars clearing from his eyes as he realized he’d fallen to the grating. Paradoxes didn’t hurt that much typically- it was like something had been supressing his time sense and it had all exploded out in a burst of pain and terror.

The paradox and the possibility of it faded away own the endless shimmering timelines, into dead branches where his reality stopped- and he could breathe again.

He levered himself to his hands and knees, standing up shakily-

Dix grinned at him from where she’d gotten Rose in a headlock. The blonde woman was seething, straining and struggling and thrashing- her face was red, and she was snarling and spitting threats at Dix, at the Doctor, at everyone.

The Doctor shivered, looking away from where Dix was struggling to contain Rose.

He was out of time. There was a paradox somewhere nearby- or the potential for one. He needed to get out, to escape, to sort out the mess before some fool broke reality.

The Doctor ran around the console, setting levers and pushing switches, his inner professor rattling off all the settings, grav reactor set to reverse polarity, vent the main exhausts, ignore TARDIS bitching in the back of his skull because she wasn’t _his _TARDIS-

His time sense smacked him again, but this time it wasn’t with pain. He froze on the spot, his memories shifting and rearranging themselves-

_Rose was holding him, he was holding Rose, panic and terror ebbing and love and joy and relief surging in his hearts. All of reality narrowed down to their embrace, her lips against his, and the emotions in his new memory were_ real_, no tang of steel, no sense of artificial chemicals- just the feelings running through him, the woman in his arms- _

The Doctor snapped out of his daze, his new-old memory warming him from the inside and banishing the last traces of cold, and looked at the thrashing, snarling, golden-haired THING in Dix’s arms.

How could he have EVER mistaken that _THING_ for his Rose?

The last few levers slid into place, and he stared at the last button he needed to press.

The button wasn’t worn from use, and it was…cold. Some less-that-critical switch for venting excess artron into the Eye of Harmony or something like that. The settings he’d applied meant that it was the start of a cascade of failures and destruction, the beginning of the end.

He hesitated. Another cold button, to blow his world to kingdom come.

He swallowed, closing his eyes and putting his fingertip against it.

“DOCTOR!” Dix roared, and he turned his head to see Not-Rose bounding towards him, face red with mad hatred-

Really, what happened next was her own damn fault. If she’d stayed put, he might have forgotten all she’d done to him. Anger- his OWN anger, his OWN fury, untainted and unmoderated by any machine, surged up in his breast. Wiped away the fear, wiped away the nerves and hesitation, and the Doctor stomped into the back of his own head and tore the lock off the cage.

Cold, calculating fury washed through him, sparks dancing in his eyes, and he stared down at the Not-Rose like the insect it was. Reality slowed to a crawl all around him and its running footsteps slowed- it was hanging in the air, one footfall sinking to the floor, arms outstretched, animal snarl fixed on its face.

All he could feel was cold, calm fury.

Judgement.

The Not-Rose had stolen the face of the woman he loved and used it to try and make him a killer.

The Not-Rose wanted him to kill and kill and kill until it was good to him. It wanted to make him a monster.

The Not-Rose was charging at him, intent on stopping him from escaping.

Sentence: Guilty.

Punishment…

He stepped forwards, one hand closing itself around its throat. The whole world was moving in slow-motion- except for himself, and- out of the corner of his eye-

Dix folded her arms and smiled at him. At normal speed.

He dismissed it.

Irrelevant.

He didn’t tighten his grip, just used it to stop the Not-Rose in its tracks. His other hand grabbed the front of its shirt, and he dragged it towards the TARDIS doors, face blank and eyes blazing with sparks and fury.

He kicked the door open- the Not-TARDIS would be punished soon enough, but a little sampler wasn’t out of the question- and he flung the Not-Rose out into the fake battlefield on the fake grass on Fake Gallifrey. It flew, still flailing in slow motion- and he watched it smack into the ground tens of meters away, a slowed-down scream accompanying it as it landed.

Good.

The Doctor slammed the door behind him, stomping back to his console.

A cold hand rested itself on his shoulders the minute he stopped, and the monster drained from him. It slid back into its cage, slamming the door behind itself, and he slumped a little.

Emotions tangled inside him, guilt and fear and rage, and the cold hands kept their grip on his shoulders through it all.

He braced his hands on the edge of the console, eyes locked on the small black button that would blow this wretched nightmare to kingdom come.

“Are you sure this will work?” he whispered, shoulders sagging.

“No.” Dix rumbled behind him, “But it’s the best we’ve got.”

Another pause, and the Doctor straightened. Dix’s hands fell off his shoulders, but he didn’t turn around.

“Who are you?” he asked, still facing the Time Rotor, “Who…or WHAT…are you?”

“Turn around.” Dix said, and the Doctor did.

For an instant, he saw his own eyes staring back at him, soft brown instead of blue.

The Doctor blinked, and Dix was back to herself, blue eyes and black leather.

Dix smiled. And when she spoke, the rough Northern burr was gone, replaced with a smooth Estuary accent- his voice, his words. His accent.

“Do you really think, if I’d shown up with our face instead of hers, that you’d have listened to a single word I had to say? You know who I am. You’ve always known this fairytale wasn’t real…it just kept suppressing those thoughts, suppressing that bit of you. And when _He_ showed up, and started grating on your time sense…let’s just say…I had an opportunity to slip out through the cracks.”

The Doctor swallowed and nodded.

He offered Dix his hand, and she took it. Pulled her forwards to stand with him, next to the console.

“Here we go,” he whispered.

The Doctor pressed the button.

Dix vanished into a cloud of golden dust that swirled towards him and sank into his skin.

There was a distant sound like the world below their feet was breaking into rubble, and the TARDIS juddered violently under his feet. The last thing he heard was the pealing of the cloister bell, the TARDIS's deathrattle echoing into infinity. 

Everything went white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Monday update rides again! Sort of. 
> 
> This is your early Christmas present. Hope you all enjoy it. I was going to post it on the 25th, but as with all things, it's some heavy shit. So nah, I said, I'll post it a few days early and let you all enjoy it.
> 
> I'm so glad so many people have been enjoying this fic so far- I'm excited for the next few chapters, and excited for my next work after this. Thanks so much for following along thus far, guys.
> 
> As per usual, if you loved it, hated it, or want Ten to fling me into an active warzone, leave a comment and let me know your thoughts! I really struggled with a certain bit of this chapter, and I hope you all like it. 
> 
> Merry Christmas!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten rejoins the waking world to find himself trapped with the others in a tiny cell...

The Doctor’s eyes snapped open.

Everything was blurry. The whole world was spinning, and he struggled to focus his vision- something pink and yellow was looming over him. It darted around, and he struggled to track its motions.

“help” he croaked weakly, eyelids getting heavy- the machine was humming somewhere behind him, threatening to pull him back under.

Voices were shouting now, somewhere far overhead; he blinked again, and the blurry shapes started to dissolve into indistinct smears against a faint white background.

_“donna…”_ he whimpered, _“help…” _

Hands grabbed at his head, jerking it left and right; the shouting was louder now, and he could taste steel in his mouth. He blinked again, his eyes sagging down when they opened- every blink was a struggle, fighting against the iron-tainted exhaustion thundering through his veins.

A familiar scent wrapped around him- floral perfume, something he hadn’t smelled in…in…years. Years upon years.

_“rose…?”_ he croaked, and something above him made a noise-

The light overhead went dark, something passing in front of it. A planet, perhaps, eclipsing the sun.

He blinked again.

He opened his eyes again at a crawl, half-lidded and weak. Couldn’t twitch a muscle- he was paralyzed, trapped, unable to breathe-

Something far, far away SHUNKED, steel sliding on steel, and cold air hit his scalp in a rush. It was like a jolt of electricity to the base of his spine- he jerked back into full consciousness, tingles shooting from the top of his head down all his limbs.

The Doctor blinked a few times, sucking in a great mighty gasp. Every breath in poured strength into his deadened body, every blink sharpened his view of the world.

Pink-yellow-pink-blue blob. Black-peach-black-black blob….

Blink.

Blurry human shape. Gold hair, pink face. Another blurry shape, black on black. A shape approaching, red and pink-

Blink.

A face swam into view.

“Rose…?” he croaked, eyes homing in on the face. Examining it, the amber eyes, the golden hair. His eyes flicked over to the left, falling on a looming redhead-

“Donna…?” he groaned, forcing his deadened limbs to obey him and levering himself upright. It felt like pushing a boulder up a mountain, but he was determined.

Hands grabbed at his arms. Voices swirled around him, and he forced himself to focus on them.

“-Bloody hell, you half scared me to death-“

“Doctor? Doctor, are you okay?”

“Fuck me, Doc, you look like hell-“

Something wet was running down his forehead. He reached up a hand and wiped at it- his hand came away with terracotta-red liquid smeared across it.

“Oh.” He mumbled, swaying as the strong warm hands pulled him into a standing position.

“-Might be about to lose his lunch, I’d back up if I was you-“ a voice- Donna’s voice, that was Donna for sure- she was saying that, and what did she mean by lose his lunch, what? He was a Time Lord, nausea because his inner ear was unhappy was a trait of primitive humans lacking his superior…

“Time Lords don’t…Uh…” he mumbled. Okay, the grogginess was receding, and balance was back. He stood up straight, blinking a few times and trying to get his bearings. Okay. He had this. He was fine. 

And then his stomach decided to lodge a formal complaint with his brain RE: All this VR shit, and the Doctor staggered away from the others and into the corner, bracing his arms against the walls and letting his head sag. His guts gave an unpleasant lurch, and…was this really…was he REALLY…?

He wasn’t seriously going to-?

Oh no.

* * *

Rose watched as the Doctor in Pinstripes staggered out of her hands and braced himself against the wall. In spite of the endless tirades about superior biology she’d heard from her Doctor, it looked like he was about to-

The older Doctor made a choking noise, and everyone looked away as he threw up against the wall.

He straightened a moment later, groaning and fumbling in the pockets of his coat- pulling out a waterbottle and taking a hearty swig with an expression on his face like he’d just bit into a lemon.

“Well,” Donna said, “So much for superior biology or whatever it was. Welcome to the club.”

“What?” the Doctor croaked, scanning over the scene before him. Rose could see the wheels turning in his head, eyes tracking over each person in turn.

Donna, of course, and then Jack, and his eyes locked onto hers- she saw the moment of recognition, the shock that he stamped down- and then her Doctor, his past self.

And then the robots on the other side of the door.

“Right,” he said, looking them up and down, “Right. Situation?” he looked at his other self, screwing the top back on the plastic waterbottle and tucking it away.

“Sit-rep can wait. Numbers or nicknames?” the Doctor in Leather asked, folding his arms.

“Nicknames, I think. Better for avoiding any potential timeline troubles. Leather Jacket, then? And I’ll be…”

“Pinstripes,” Leather Jacket said, “You’re Pinstripes. Sound good?”

“Right. Sounds good to me. Alright, situation?” Pinstripes said, grinning in that way that his past self instantly knew was put-on.

“Eleven-odd killer robots on the other side of the door. They catch us, we get jammed into a machine like you.”

“Right. Brilliant. Supplies? What’ve we got to work with?”

Leather Jacket pulled out his screwdriver and gestured at Donna and Jack.

“Two Sonic screwdrivers, Jack’s blasters, whatever we’ve got in our pockets, an’ whatever we can scrounge up in here.”

The two Doctors looked at each other, both their minds whirring. Donna watched as the Doctor in Pinstripes lost his smile apropos of nothing, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall as he thought through the problem.

She opened her mouth to say something when her Doctor jerked his head up and locked eyes with his past self.

“Water?” he suggested, and the Doctor in Leather shook his head.

“Not enough of it. Donna drank most of mine.”

“Sorry…” Donna muttered.

Leather Jacket started to pace, expression drawn and arms folded.

“Fifty-first century electronics,” he said, “Donna an’ I found that they’re not well-shielded from shock, the sonic kills ‘em easily…”

“Oh? That so, eh?” Pinstripes mumbled, quirking an eyebrow, “Now, there’s a thought…if they’re poorly built without any protection…”

Both Doctors froze and slowly turned to look at each other.

And both of their faces lit up at exactly the same time, identical giddy smiles shining at each other. 

“Oh, I’m brilliant, aren’t I?” Pinstripes said, rubbing his hands together in excitement, “This is just too EASY!”

“Bloody child’s play. I’m a genius. Glad I thought of this, eh?” Leather Jacket grinned back at him.

“Oh, GOD, they’re FLIRTING.” Donna moaned, “Please, God don’t-“

“I can’t tell you what I’m thinking right now.” Jack said flatly, eyes flicking between the two Doctors.

The two Time Lords both whipped their heads around to look at Jack incredulously.

“You can’t tell us, but you sure as fuck can broadcast it loudly enough for every telepath from here to VY Canis Majoris to hear it,” Leather Jacket growled, rubbing his forehead, “Turn down your bloody telepathy, Jack.”

“Yeah, not really interested in being the bread in your imaginary sandwich, Jack…” Pinstripes agreed with an obvious shudder, “Anyway….killer robots! Bit cliché, but so’s our solution…”

He reached over and yanked the blaster out of Jack’s fingertips- the defrocked Captain had pulled it out when his Doctor had mentioned it, and was only slightly surprised to see it being taken away.

Donna offered out the sonic, and her Doctor snatched it away with a big grin and a “thank you.” Meanwhile, the Doctor in leather had grabbed the helmet cord as high up as he could, and was busy yanking on it, trying to pull it out of the wall.

“What- what are you doing?” Rose asked, looking between the two Doctors in confusion. Pinstripes was crouching on the floor, fiddling with Jack’s blaster with his Sonic in his teeth, and her Doctor was in the process of tearing the helmet’s cable from the wall.

“Pretty bloody simple,” Leather Jacket started, “Robots, fifty-first century, not terribly well-built…”

“Always the lowest bidder!” Pinstripes said, “Good news for us, though. Not nearly enough shielding on key components. Keeps costs down, assuming nobody knows how to do exactly what we’re about to do here. A simple EMP pulse should short most of them out, easy as you please…”

There was a grunt and a shriek of metal snapping under tension, and Leather Jacket staggered back, clutching his prize in his hands with a triumphant grin on his face.

“EMP?” Donna asked, “What sort of- What?”

“Electromagnetic Pulse,” Jack started to say, only to get cut off by the two Doctors- they were practically giddy with glee. Leather Jacket strode over to crouch down next to himself, fiddling with the helmet and pulling off bits and pieces.

“Electromagnetic pulses- overloads circuitry an’ things that aren’t properly shielded. Kills electronics an’ is harmless to living things, unless they’ve got a pacemaker or somethin’ like that…” Leather Jacket started-

“Oooh, a pacemaker- they made some in the late 20th century with plutonium in the batteries, that’d be just brilliant right about now-“ Pinstripes babbled as he pulled various bits out of the inside of Jack’s blaster.

“That blaster got enough capacitors for the pulse…?” Leather Jacket asked, grunting and coughing on the fumes as he used his sonic to cut through the bundle of cable at the base of the helmet.

“Just. Barely. Well, I say barely…it’ll do what we need to do. Would be better if we had some extra capacitorbanks-“

“D’you ever shut up?” blue eyes scowled at brown, and Donna snorted.

“No,” she said, “No, he doesn’t. Ever.”

“Fantastic.” Leather-Doctor said with a derisive eyeroll. The cable came loose with a jerk and he switched off his screwdriver, examining the long length of cable and nodding to himself. He adjusted the setting on his screwdriver, and started to shape the cable into a coil; buzzing his screwdriver over the rubber coating stiffened it, locking the cable into shape.

“Gun’s almost done,” Pinstripes reported.

“Coil’s on the way. Jack!” Leather Jacket gestured at the door with his screwdriver, “Squareness gun. Hole in the middle of the door, if you could? Thanks ever so.”

Jack blinked a few times- it was mesmerizing watching the two Doctors work. They didn’t talk much- just the odd word, both doing whatever their assigned tasks were efficiently and quickly. He stepped over to the door with his second blaster, switching it to the squareness setting and making a hole in the middle of the doorway at about waist-height. The only downside was that now they could hear the endless chorus of the robots chattering away in the halls, creepily asking them to please remain calm and please submit to treatment…

“So, you’ll just blast them all and they’ll be dead?” Rose asked, biting her lip, “That EMP thing, it’ll kill them?”

The two Doctors stopped what they were doing and looked at each other.

“Capacitor banks?” Leather Jacket asked.

“Barely enough, like I said.”

“Ah. Reset then?”

“Yyyyyyeperoonie.” Pinstripes paused and winced, “And that’s another word I’m never saying again. Nope, nope, nope-“

“Reset? What’s reset supposed to mean?! You mean it’s not going to kill them?” Donna spluttered, “What’s the point of this EMP thing, then?!”

“Reset…As in, get them off our asses for a bit?” Jack asked, folding his arms.

Both Doctors nodded without looking up.

“I’ll probably scramble them. Might kill the closer ones, not sure. An’ it won’t look very impressive. But the farther ones, it’ll probably just wipe whatever they’ve got queued up for orders. Reset them so they won’t attack straight away…”

“And then we can run in and clean up the rubbish with the sonics!” Pinstripes finished, beaming.

“Right. And by “we”, you mean “me and Rose”, right Doctor?” Donna said, giving him one of her very best Stern Glares.

Her Doctor quailed slightly under the force of his friend’s harsh gaze, opening his mouth to argue-

“She’s right. Both of you are sitting ducks if you go out there. I’m not-“ Rose choked up slightly, eyes falling on her Doctor, the one in leather. There was a long pause as the two of them made eye contact, and the Doctor in pinstripes bit his lip, eyes darting between them.

“I’m not losing you.” she said quietly, eyes locked on her Doctor.

Pinstripes looked away, sucking in a deep breath and closing his eyes. He stiffened- and only relaxed when Donna walked over and put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

The tension dribbled out of him, his shoulders slumping- and he smiled weakly up at Donna.

She nodded at him, and then gestured back down at the blaster.

Only then did they look up to see the three other occupants staring at them.

“…Yeah, sure. Okay. Uh- I think I should open it up after you two do your thing with the EMP,” Jack said, his tone that of someone trying to pivot away from an awkward conversation, “I’ll shoot any that are too close with…whatever charge I’ve got left on this thing, and then-“

“We’ll get in and sort them all out. Got it.” Donna said, her hand still clutching the Doctor’s shoulder protectively. He’d turned his attention back to the blaster, uncharacteristically quiet as he soldered the last connection in place with his screwdriver.

“Right,” he said with a huff, turning to his past self and forcing a manic grin back on his face, “Mine’s done!”

“Fantastic. So’s mine.” Leather Jacket held up the coil he’d made, a simple helix with a long trailing end. The Doctor beside him took it, and they both started to fuss with it- attaching the ends of the coil to the modified blaster with their screwdrivers, wires snapping into place and fusing components to components. Pinstripes slipped the casing back overtop and screwed it back in place, and the two Doctors beamed proudly at their creation…

…Jack’s blaster, with a huge coil of wire sticking out of the end.

“Right, that’ll about do it.” Leather Jacket sat back and fiddled his screwdriver back to the setting to kill electronics, meeting Rose’s gaze and opening his mouth to argue-

Rose rolled her eyes and snatched it out of his grasp.

Donna was clutching her Doctor’s screwdriver a second later, and both Doctors stood up. Leather Jacket held on to the gun, looking it over and then at the hole in the door.

“Well,” he said, “No time like the present, eh?”

“Hold on, isn’t the door locked?” Rose asked, biting her lip, “Don’t we need to…?” she gestured with the screwdriver, and the Doctors shared a look.

Leather Jacket grabbed the sonic from Rose and fiddled with it, quickly buzzing the lock and re-setting it back to killing electronics. He slapped it into Rose’s hand with a firm nod and half a smile- a slightly forced one, she noted.

There was a moment’s muttering as everyone shifted into position- Leather-Doctor poked the end of the coil through the hole, fiddling with some settings on the side of the gun. Jack stood behind him, blaster set well past stun, and Rose and Donna stood back with the screwdrivers, prepared to charge into the fray.

The Doctor in pinstripes stood at the back, eyes on Rose.

Eyes clouded over, lost in a memory only he could see.

“Here goes!” Leather Jacket grunted, pulling the trigger.

The robot directly in front of the coil sparked and slumped dead like it had been stabbed with the sonic; four more around it fell dead in a shower of sparks, the last one wheeling away and smashing into a wall before toppling over, dead.

“That’s IT?!” Donna gaped, “That was just- nothing! No fancy blue wave, or- or-?”

“Hollywood,” Leather Jacket muttered, “is not real life.”

Jack stepped in as his Doctor pulled the gun out of the hole, shoving the end of his blaster out and blowing away several of the close moving robots- He got four shots off, a bright blue laser arcing through the air and slamming into their steel chassis, sparks travelling all over their exterior plating. The robots slumped dead where they stood, and Jack’s blaster gave a mournful click- he sprang back, grabbing the handle at the same time as the Doctor. The two of them tore the door open with a synchronized grunt, springing out of the way.

Donna lunged out like a woman possessed, eyes falling on one of the last two robots- up the hall, closer to her TARDIS. She shoved her way through the dead forest of mechanical tentacles, striding towards it with fury in her eyes. Her own face glared back at her in the reflective steel, and she sprang at it, stabbing the head and body with the screwdriver in a shower of sparks and sizzling electronics. Behind her, Rose was shouting, and the zaps and snaps of overloaded circuitry echoed down the empty corridors.

The arms on Donna’s refused to go slack, and she stabbed at it again and again-

The robot finally, finally slumped dead.

“Y’know, that Sonic is a precision instrument. It’s a tool. Not a bloody machete, Donna!” Pinstripes called- Donna spun around to see the Doctors leaning out of the cell, spectating.

She groaned.

“I just saved your bloody life, a little gratitude might be nice!” she said with a huff, striding back towards the cell. Despite everything, Donna was beaming- they’d all been bloody brilliant, hadn’t they?

She walked back to the cell a few seconds behind Rose, and smiled proudly when she saw the young Blonde hugging her Doctor in leather so tightly that a dime wouldn’t have fit between them. She could feel the pride rolling off the younger Doctor, and turned her attention to her Doctor.

He was looking away from the affectionate scene beside him, swallowing, his face unnaturally blank.

“Alright,” he said before Donna could ask him what the plan was now, “I think it’s back to the TARDIS for you three. I’ll just…erase your memories, keep the time stream safe and all that, and- yeah. Thanks for the rescue, and it’s time to get going-“

Everyone stared at him.

Leather Jacket’s face fell, pain filling his eyes. It took Donna a second to realize why.

He squeezed Rose to his chest tightly.

_He had to forget the kiss._

“Whoa, whoa, just like that? Not even a goodbye, nothing?” Jack protested, “We can’t leave yet, anyway.”

“Why not?” Pinstripes said, still with his back to his past self and Rose, “Jack, the longer he and I stay here, the better the odds get that we’re going to cause some sort of a paradox- the universe might delete itself, we might bring down the Reapers. We’re already playing with fire by having this time loop in the first place, I can’t think how things would be improved by-“

“Didn’t you say the TARDIS can support a paradox?” Donna interrupted, “Let’s just go to one of your TARDISes then. And…” She looked her Doctor in the eyes and gestured at Jack, “And he needs to leave a note on my mirror. That’s how I was able to call them in the first place. If he doesn’t do that-“

“The loop doesn’t complete. An’ we’ve got a paradox big enough to blow a hole in spacetime.” The Doctor in leather finished, everyone turning around to look at him. Rose had her face buried into his jumper, and he was stroking a hand through her hair.

Donna saw the look in her Doctor’s eye, and she stood up straighter. He was about to go and be a self-sacrificing twat and cause himself more hurt and upset, and he was going to write it off as “for the good of the time stream” or somesuch.

He needed an intervention, and STAT.

“Right. So, let’s all go to the TARDIS and hash this out.”

“And also…” Jack met her gaze, and Donna could tell that he was having the same thoughts as her.

Jack folded his arms. “Also, we can’t just leave this ship here like this. Someone else is gonna stumble across it, and it could stay on emergency power for centuries. If there’s any empty cells left, they could be in danger. We need to shut all the medical stuff down. And we should probably call the authorities, get them to take a look at…whatever the hell you guys found down there.”

“Yeah. What he said!” Donna locked eyes with Leather Jacket, daring him to argue, “That evidence on that bloke’s email, that needs to go to the authorities, don’t even try to argue. Best to call the space-cops and have them sort it out. Maybe they can throw those UHA bastards in prison or something.”

“Exactly. So!” Jack said, rubbing his hands together, “I say, we all go back to the TARDIS. Me and Donna’ll handle shutting everything down-“

“The password is “Password”, I know that much-“

“Right, yeah. And you three, you can, uh, send up a distress call.” Jack nodded firmly, “Which will take…some time to reach someone, right?”

The Doctors and Rose stared at them.

“Jack,” the younger Doctor said with a sigh, “What do you _actually _want?”

Donna cut him off before he could speak, jabbing a finger at her Doctor.

“He wants you- all of you- to get some bloody rest!” she said, “And you, spaceman, you do not get to be all self-sacrificing and stupid about this. Not now. You three-“ and she met Rose’s eye, as if daring her to argue- “Are going to go to the media room, you’re going to curl up on the couch, and you’re going to watch something stupid and fluffy with some tea and blankets until Jack and I get back. Got it? ESPECIALLY you, sunshine!” she jabbed her finger at her Doctor.

“Donna-“

“No, don’t ‘Donna’ me! You’ve just had your brains gently cooking in a demon colander full of needles, I don’t want to hear any of your nonsense! You need some bloody _rest_. And you’re going to fucking get it. Got that?”

Leather Jacket sighed, pulling Rose close.

“She’s got a point,” the Doctor said, “There’s still empty cells, an’ it’s got brain scans from both of us. Any empty cells’ll just grab us an’ we’ll be back to square one.”

Pinstripes nodded, then turned and quirked an eyebrow.

“Brain scans?”

“I’ll explain later.” His past self sighed, “For now…she’s right. We’re just a liability.”

Donna and Jack nodded.

“Glad you agree with us. Alright, time’s a-wasting. Saddle up, kids.” Jack gestured at the pile of stuff on the floor, scooping up all the discarded lanyards and whatnot. Donna stooped down and grabbed the red toolbox, long-forgotten in the corner, and they lead the Doctors and their Rose out of the cell.

“Who’s TARDIS?” Donna asked, turning her head to look back at hers-

“Mine.” Leather Jacket said; “His.” Pinstripes said at the exact same time.

Donna turned to look at them.

“Mine’s the past,” Leather Jacket said, “Safer that way. He might have rearranged all the mugs in a manner that might spoil some major future event, an’ that’s another paradox for the dizzying pile.”

“Yep,” Pinstripes agreed, “So. His. Lead on, then.”

Jack and Donna shrugged at each other, and lead their little posse back towards the younger Doctor’s TARDIS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone have a good Christmas? I certainly did. 
> 
> Monday update's probably off the table, we'll see- I only like to do that when I've got a nice full backlog, and currently I don't have anything in my backlog at all. So. Sorry about that. Friday, though! 
> 
> In case I don't get to post before the new year, here's to 2020 not being a basket of dicks, yeah? 
> 
> Anyway, as usual, if you liked it, hated it, or found a typo or any other mistake, leave a comment! Your feedback is very helpful and has honestly helped improve this fic so, so, so much as I've written it. Thanks for a fabulous few months, see you all next year! Probably!


	20. Chapter 20

The theme tune blared out from the TARDIS’s massive television, sophisticated 67th century technology, cleaning up the broadcasted images into ultra-HD so crisp and clear it looked like you were right there. The TARDIS herself further modified the footage to look appropriate for a Time Lord’s eyes- human cameras only took in certain types of light, but on this screen the colours that humans couldn’t see were displayed alongside the standard “visible spectrum”.

All of this was being used to play a show from Rose’s time. On the TV, some workers in a factory were making colourful glass, while a narrator with a soothing voice explained the process step-by-step. It wasn’t stressful or challenging viewing- a calm show about normal people doing normal things, someplace peaceful and safe. Exactly what the two men slumped on the couch desperately needed at that moment. The TARDIS, doing her best to help in any way she could.

The Doctor in pinstripes sighed and looked over at the other end of the large sofa. His past self was sprawled out sideways with his head resting on the arm, and Rose was laying on top of him; a blanket wrapped up to her shoulders, and the two of them were just radiating contentment.

Deep down, he could feel that joy- the new-old memories jostling for space. His past self was happy, and the flare of jealous desire raging in his breast was sure to put a damper on that if he muscled in.

Rose. He’d HAD Rose. He had Rose right that moment, but it wasn’t him, it was-

Fucking English. Fucking three tenses. Fuck him, fuck Time, fuck…

Vision of blood and Taurans and fire and warfare danced in front of his eyes. Gallifrey reduced to rubble by his hand. Not-Rose. The blood on his hands, on his sword, the twisted joy he’d felt…

The Doctor shivered, turning away. It was too much. He grabbed his mug, slurping on his tea as dark thoughts swirled away in the back of his brain.

Why did Donna insist on this? Why did he agree to this?

He was dying of thirst in a desert with an oasis in sight- but too far away for him to ever reach in time. Tantalus’s torture, he thought bitterly, had nothing on his current situation.

The woman on the other end of the couch wasn’t HIS Rose.

He’d lost _his _Rose. And he’d never see her ever again.

“Doctor?”

He closed his eyes and put on a smile, looking over at them.

His past self had a slight frown on his face, fingers tangling in her hair, and Rose was smiling at him, hand outstretched.

She gently prodded her Doctor, and the other man grunted and changed positions- turning to sit on the couch properly, feet on the floor and arm on the rest. Rose slid off his lap, taking her blanket with her, and sat next to him. She made the _come here _gesture again, and the Doctor scooted over cautiously with his tea in hand.

“You’ve got that look on your face,” she said softly, “Come here.”

He sighed and put his mug down on the coffee table, scooting closer. His skin was prickling- _notmyRosenotmyRosenotmyRose _whispered through his head on a loop. She didn’t grate on his time sense, more…stroked it gently. A constant reminder that she’d be gone soon, and he’d be without. Again.

And then her fingers were tangling in his hair and he rather lost his train of thought.

“Blimey, it’s soft!” Rose exclaimed, and despite himself, the Doctor grinned a little.

Soft and touchable, just for her. Just the way the grumpy old bastard glaring at them had wanted it.

He flicked his eyes up as Rose pulled his head down, meeting his past self’s gaze, and couldn’t help the smug grin on his face.

_Another fucking pretty-boy, _Leather Jacket’s eyes were saying.

_I know, and doesn’t she just love it? _he grinned back, making his past self huff and fold his arms.

Rose didn’t miss the motion. She settled the Doctor’s head in her lap, and then turned to look at her Doctor.

“Are you…jealous?”

“No.”

Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head, running her fingers through the future-Doctor’s hair.

He sighed, letting some of the tension in his shoulders uncoil under her fingertips.

Fuck the future, fuck the past, fuck loss, fuck regret, _fuck everything._

All that mattered was right here and right now. Rose was alive. Rose was alive and with him…

He wrapped this memory up as best he could, jamming it in the depths of his mind along with his oldest memories. Filing it away where it couldn’t be jostled or damaged or forgotten.

“Shouldn’t touch his face,” Leather-Doctor rumbled somewhere about a thousand miles away, “It’s…intimate.”

Rose nodded- he felt the motion through her arm- and adjusted her movement, fingers running from the top of his head down to the nape of his neck.

The Doctor shivered a little as her fingers brushed against the back of his neck, a soft rumble jolting from somewhere in his chest.

“Oh! I’m sorry, are you-“ Her hand jerked up, and the Doctor followed it slowly, confused. No, no, that had been brilliant what was she DOING-

“Oh, fuck,” his past self muttered, covering his face with his hands.

The Doctor reached up and grabbed her wrist, pulling it back down and guiding it right back to where she’d accidentally stroked him. When her fingers didn’t immediately start brushing the spot again, he looked up, even more confused.

“Doctor?” Rose said, biting her lip as she looked down at him, “What just happened?”

The man beside her huffed.

“Nerve cluster,” he grumbled, “Feels...nice. When someone else touches it. Only if it’s someone you trust, though…”

Rose quirked an eyebrow and looked at her Doctor.

“Nerve cluster? It’s not, um…it’s not a…”

She blushed bright red, and the Doctor on her lap sighed. He’d missed her face, her smile…

“No. It’s not a sexual thing, if that’s what you’re wonderin’.” his past self rumbled, and the Doctor could see the spark of jealousy in his eyes. Heh.

Rose nodded, and her fingers stroked over the patch behind his ear again, tangling themselves in his hair and then back. Warm fingers, hot hands, boiling hot human, and the Doctor went limp. A dopey smile spread across his face.

The memory of the Fake Rose doing this to him bubbled up, and he giggled a little. It was a pale shadow of the real deal- just like Fake Rose, just like all the fake happiness in that fake world.

He could feel the purr rumbling up in his chest, his hearts beating calmly; he was warm. So warm. She was making him warm and happy.

The purr rumbled up out of him, for the first time in fuck knew how many years, and he let his eyelids droop.

“…Purring?” Rose wondered aloud, and his hearts were about ready to burst. His clever Rose, asking questions, wanting to learn, wanting to understand.

“I told you, Rose. Alien. As in, not Human.”

“Alien…are you sure you’re not just an overgrown housecat?”

Both Doctors snorted.

Her fingers kept brushing against him, and he kept rumbling- a deep, bassy purr from the depths of his chest, spreading the contented, relaxed, safe feeling all thought his body.

Everything was right. At the moment, in that moment, everything was right.

“Can you purr if I pet you there? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t…Didn’t think you’d be alright with it. Didn’t know…” his past self was saying.

“Why the purring? What’s it for, anyway?”

“Don’t know. Why the appendix?”

“That’s fair, I guess…”

Rose, Rose, his brilliant Rose, always asking questions. He sighed and let his eyes close.

“is it just there, or…?”

“No. I mean…there’s the only place where I can’t control it, but…”

“So you can purr at other times? Blimey, if I’d’ve known that, I’d’ve been giving you neck rubs from the first day on board-“

A moment of silence, and her fingers stopped.

The Doctor jerked his head up, a frown on his lips. There was some unspoken conversation happening between Rose and his past self, and frankly, he didn’t fucking care.

“You’re not finished,” he mumbled, looking up at Rose’s shocked expression. Grabbed her wrist and put it back where it belonged, and then let go and melted happily into the couch again.

Rose giggled.

“God, Doctor, I was right the first time. You’re not an alien, you’re just an overgrown housecat.”

“OI! I am_ nothing_ like some stupid hairy housepet that sicks up its own fur! I’m- I- hmmmmmm~”

Rose chuckled, and her hand lifted away from the back of the Doctor’s neck, much to his consternation. He looked up to lodge a complaint, only to catch sight of Rose giggling.

His past self, the Doctor in leather, the terrifying man who made armies piss themselves and flee, the ornery and broody old fucker…had his head on Rose Tyler’s shoulder, and was purring like an idling diesel engine as her fingers scratched the back of his neck.

And Rose was giggling.

The Doctor sighed, drinking in the sound of it. Alright, fine. He’d live without, if it meant she kept laughing.

They lay there like that for some time, until his past self abruptly decided that he’d had his fill of head-scratchies and sat up, shaking his head to clear the residual fog. There was a contented, relaxed smile on his face- had that body ever looked that relaxed, _ever?_

The Doctor was pretty sure the answer was “no.”

“I’m gonna go get a snack,” Leather Jacket said, “All that bloody running and jumping and hacking. I’ve a craving for nibbles. Rose, d’you want anything?”

“Crisps, please!” she chirped, sighing as her Doctor thumped into the hallway in his stocking feet (he’d left his boots in the little rack by the door with his future self’s red Chucks and Rose’s runners.)

The past Doctor closed the door partway behind himself, leaving Rose and the Doctor in pinstripes alone in the media room.

An awkward silence fell, and the Doctor sighed. Well, she’d want to push him away, surely. He wasn’t HER Doctor, and this whole regeneration thing had to be doing her head in. How many companions had seen him go through it? He’d lost track, but it wasn’t normal for humans, and…

He sat up, about to scoot away from her, only for Rose to grab his wrist and keep him close.

“So…” Rose turned to him, looking into his brown eyes, “What…what exactly happened to you in there?”

The Doctor stiffened, looking away.

Rose sighed.

“Why don’t you want to talk about it?”

The Doctor bit his lip and looked at her, guilt clouding his eyes.

“It…I…” he huffed out a sigh, letting Rose intertwine their fingers.

“It…it felt completely real,” he started awkwardly, “and I- I didn’t want it to be fake. Not at first. Not…Not right till the end. I…”

Shame and guilt were etched onto his face, and he turned away from her, trying to scoot down the couch.

Rose let go of his hand and put it on his shoulder, pulling him in close.

“Start at the top,” she whispered, “Tell me what happened.”

He bit his lip. There was a look in his eyes like he was thinking about bolting- his muscles tensed up, and Rose scowled and tightened her grip on his hand.

He settled back into the couch slowly, swallowing his nerves and finally making proper eye contact for longer than a second.

The Doctor opened his mouth and started to speak. Slowly and haltingly, stammering out his story- and though his voice smoothed out as he spoke, it never lost that unnerved edge, like he’d be happier shutting up and bottling it all away.

Rose glared at him every time he stopped, and the Doctor would suck in a breath, look at his toes, and start talking again.

He told her about waking up on the grating; about the fake Donna assuring him that everything was alright, that what had happened on the ship was nothing more than a nightmare. About the blissful reunion with his homeworld; about meeting her in the endless fields of red grass.

The Doctor choked up when he mentioned that.

Rose just nodded. It cemented in her mind the certainty that this Doctor had lost her at some point, and it wasn’t a parting either of them had planned.

He described seeing the library, the first hints of Taurans- and the Doctor shivered, pausing to stare at the flickering light of the TV screen.

“I…there was a feeling like I should be…shouldn’t be okay with everything. That I should be re-experiencing a lot of old trauma, that I shouldn’t be as fine as I was. And every time I tried to focus on that feeling, it slipped out of my hands again…it was so hard to keep focused, and I eventually just… dropped it. I should have known something was wrong then. I should have…”

“You didn’t, though,” Rose interjected, “you can’t blame yourself for not knowing something. Sounds like the machine was messin’ with your head in more ways than one. That’s not your fault- you shouldn’t blame yourself for that.”

The Doctor bit his lip and looked away. His shoulders slumped, Rose noticed, and she smiled at him sweetly. Trying to encourage him to keep going.

This wasn’t HER Doctor, but if that guff about regeneration was accurate, then he’d become her Doctor at some point. And…her Doctor was hurting. The only way for him to start to heal was to open up a little and talk about what had happened to him.

“…We went to a party,” he started slowly, “there was some….shenanigans, with a phone call… And Wilf- you wouldn’t know him, he’s Donna’s grandfather- nevermind. And...” the Doctor looked at the floor, his face flushing red with shame. He pulled away from Rose, scooting away from her and to the end of the couch.

“The books I got from the library were all wrong. The computer could only fill in the text with information I already had in my own head- so they were either stuff I already knew, or…or they were blank. And…I wanted to think about it, think about why the books were all wrong, when…I… you… SHE, it, that not-Rose thing…just…well…”

“Me?” Rose echoed, looking into his eyes.

The Doctor’s eyes welled up and he closed them and looked away. He was still blushing BRIGHT red.

“I should’ve said no.” he said quietly, “She wasn’t real. I should’ve…”

“You didn’t know.” Rose replied, comprehension dawning- and outrage following it. Not outrage at the Doctor, but outrage at the machine that had used and exploited his emotions, that had used HER FACE to manipulate him…

“She...?”

“Yes.” The Doctor choked, “I should’ve said no. I could’ve said no. But I wanted it, so badly, and- and-“

“Doctor.” Rose’s voice was stern and serious, “You thought it was real, right?”

“Yes.”

“Did…you…did she…?”

“She seduced me.” He choked out.

Rose nodded.

“It’s not your fault.” She said, repeating that trite little line in the hope it’d penetrate his mile-thick skull, “it wanted you to stay in there, not to think about what was wrong, right?”

The Doctor nodded.

Rose took a deep breath, trying to quell her own outrage. She clearly wasn’t doing a good job- the Doctor shrank back, trying to bury himself into the couch’s armrest. Still flushed bright red with shame and guilt.

“That…thing that you thought was me,” Rose started, “You didn’t know she wasn’t real. And the computer was using- her, using ME, to try and keep you from thinking too hard about what was wrong, right? It wasn’t your fault. She was manipulating you. I-“

Rose’s voice cut out, and she folded her arms, trying to think about how best to word the next part.

“I’m not pissed at you,” she said flatly, “I’m pissed at this…FUCKING ship. It preyed on you. It used my face and preyed on you. I’m not mad at you. I’m…”

She looked up, taking in the dawning shock on the Doctor’s face.

They sat in silence for a few moment, both of them just…processing.

Rose let it sink in for a moment- that she was angry on his behalf, and not angry at him. He slumped back on the sofa, staring into space- whatever his eyes were seeing, it wasn’t the TV in front of them. Rose placed a hand on his shoulder, surprised when he shifted closer.

“Doctor,” she said after the program had ended and the TARDIS had switched it over to another episode, “What happened after that?”

He stiffened and looked away. All the colour drained from his face, and he tried to scoot away from Rose again- and oh no, that wasn’t fucking happening. Not again.

She grabbed his wrist and scooted up against him, trapping him between the arm of the sofa and her side. The Doctor looked down at her in despair.

“Tell me,” she said softly, and his shoulders sagged. The air left his lungs in a deep and shuddering sigh, like a deflating balloon, and he slumped back into his sofa.

“After that…I…it didn’t get any better,” he said quietly, “We were all at the party, and then…Taurans showed up. And…” he leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands, staring at his socks.

“I...one of the Taurans killed Donna,” he started, “And I- I killed him, Rose. I _killed_ him. I took his sword and I stabbed him with it. All I could feel was hate, and it…it was **_fun. _**It felt so good. I don’t…why did it feel good? I murdered someone, and it felt…it felt good-“

Rose scooted over to his end of the couch and wrapped herself around the shuddering Time Lord, listening to his ragged breathing start to smooth out. His heartsbeats were thundering through his back, and Rose laid her head on his shoulder.

“I’d have killed all of them,” he said flatly, “I wanted to kill them all, and I would’ve done it. I’d have stabbed them all, chopped their heads off- I wasn’t thinking, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t- and then Donna. I heard her voice, yelling my name- and then she- she-“

He shook his head and went quiet again.

“We chased them. They took- everyone, they took all my friends, they took Sarah Jane and Martha and Mickey and…and everyone. They took the Brig, they took Wilf, and they- we followed them in the TARDIS all the way to Gallifrey. And they-“

He stopped. Stared at the TV again, seeing and not seeing a thing in front of them.

The Time War danced behind his eyelids, and the Doctor stiffened and shivered.

Rose was whispering that it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t his fault-

The psychic scream of his species as they all died rang though his head, overlaid with the scream in the nightmare world as the shields shattered. As the world around him dissolved, as he blew it all to hell- AGAIN-

The Doctor curled in on himself, freezing up and going very, very quiet. Rose held him as his shoulders started to shake; she stroked his back and muttered to him, as he let it all out as quietly as possible.

Everything hurt.

He sat there, head in his hands, quiet sobs shaking his body for a minute or an hour; the program on the TV ended, and the TARDIS queued up another one from the same series. She reached out into the Doctor’s mind and cradled him in a mental hug, and the Doctor-

He sat up straight, Rose’s hands sliding off him, and his eyes glazed over.

His ship. His ship. Her mind, humming at him, her mind, her EMPTY MIND-

What if he was still trapped? _What if he was still in there?!_

He flailed for the edges of her mind, panic and desperation hammering through his veins.

_Please, please, please? _He begged, his words bumping up against the edges of her thoughts- and this wasn’t HIS ship, he remembered, this was the ship that HAD been his, this was his past ship-

_Of course, _she hummed back, her consent winding around him like a blanket, and he nearly sobbed. The surface of her mind glowed gold, the waves lapping at his fingertips-

He flung himself in, no gentle lowering, just plunging into the warm glowing sea and letting the waves crash over his head.

Golden light swirled all around him, the eddies and currents of her vast and endless mind surrounding him and tugging him one way and the other. Music- her music, her thoughts, rang through the endless sea, her concern a shoal of splintered emotions swirling around him and brushing at his hands and his face. Like dolphins nuzzling a diver.

She…she was here. She was _real._

This was real.

This was _all _real.

The Doctor pulled away from the TARDIS, breaking the surface of her mind with a gasp and yanking himself back to the present. He made a croaking noise halfway between a sob and a laugh- She was here. She was real. He was awake. This was real.

Rose rubbed at his back, and the Doctor flopped back against the couch.

She was saying his name, and he rolled his head over to look at her.

“She’s real,” he mumbled, “It’s all real. _You’re _real. I-“

The paranoia had cut through him like a lance, and he’d needed proof, needed to know-

He relaxed slightly.

Rose’s warm hand placed itself on his shoulder, and he snorted in bitter amusement.

He was so, so fucked up.

He leaned against Rose, closing his eyes. The images behind his eyelids, of Tauran blood and Dalek fire, of burning red grass and human screams…

The TARDIS exploding, blowing a hole in the universe where once Gallifrey had been…

It was all a dream, sure. That lessened the blow. But the memories of the Moment, of destroying his planet for real…they swirled up in his mind like a storm on the sea, smashing him against the rocks, a reminder of what he’d done.

“They're all dead,” he whispered to her, "And it's all my fault.”

He wrapped his arms around her, and she held him as he broke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of a Monday update, and sorry about the state of this chapter. I've been scrambling around visiting family and taking advantage of being home and prepping a cosplay and doing ten squillion other things, and writing kind of got the shaft. However, uni's starting soon, so look forward to a glut of chapters as I get this rollercoaster of a fic wrapped up. 
> 
> Anyway. The chapter. As per usual, if you loved it, if you hated it, or if you want me to eat whatever culinary war crime Nine's whipping up in the kitchen, leave a comment! I love all your comments, and they'll make my very stressful upcoming journey cross-country much more bearable.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Donna tie up a few loose ends.

“14.4 dash Crisps dash Seven…” Donna muttered to herself, twiddling the sonic into position and buzzing it down the panel on the wall.

They were in the ship’s bridge again, Jack fiddling around with some of the computers using the password Donna and the Doctor had found. He’d already sent up the distress call, which would hopefully bring in the authorities- and the Doctor had promised to get in touch with the Shadow Proclamation, and any other authorities he could.

So that left Donna to try and prove her hunch. She was busy messing with the wall of the bridge- the blue glow and the hum meant there was doubtlessly a mainframe back there. She’d seen it before, how could it be anything else?

In the meantime, though, smalltalk.

“You reckon we can shut off the…what did you call it? Collection program? From here?” Donna asked, pressing her ear to the wall and running the screwdriver down the seam. She closed her eyes and listened for the hum to change, listening for any clunks of latches disengaging.

“Hope so!” Jack said, typing something into one of the terminals, “Otherwise we’ll have to go downstairs, and I don’t want to risk there being any more robots. No thank you.” He shuddered, and resumed hammering away- reaching up to adjust the tinfoil hat that was still fixed firmly over his head, as it had been this entire time. In fact, he was the only one still wearing it, really.

Rose had ditched hers the moment she’d crossed the TARDIS threshold, the Doctors were holed up inside the TARDIS and didn’t need theirs anymore, and she wasn’t what the system was after, anyway. So that just left Jack.

“Why haven’t you taken that stupid hat off yet?” she asked, running the screwdriver down the seam a little farther, “the Doctor and I checked, you’re in the system but so am I. It’s safe, Jack.”

The other man snorted.

“Yeah, no. It’s not. Not for me.” He shuddered, and Donna pulled away from the wall, quirking an eyebrow.

“And what’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

Jack shrugged.

“Exactly what it sounds like, Donna. I’m a Time Agent. I’ve had training. Maybe not military, but I’ve had training. And I’ve…I’ve seen some shit.” His voice broke a little, and he looked up from the terminal, shaking his head and looking back down, “I’m pretty sure this ship is after guys just like me. You- Yeah. I’m not taking my hat off until we’re safely back on the TARDIS and well the fuck away from here.”

Donna stepped away from the wall and up behind Jack, putting an arm around his shoulders. He sighed, letting all the air out of his chest, and put an arm around her. She took some of his weight, the two of them staring in concert out the ship’s front windshield.

The ship’s prow was pointed at the majesty of the Horsehead Nebula, filling the windows with the breathtaking vista. Gaseous clouds swirling dark against a reddened sky, twisting around each other like smoke against the glow of newly-born stars. It was spectacular- she could hardly imagine a place as beautiful as this being the backdrop for a horrible war.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked Jack after a pause that felt like it lasted a century.

He chuckled and shook his head.

“Not really, Donna. Not…Not now. Maybe someday.” Jack shrugged, “It was a long time ago, now. I’ll...I’ll be fine.” He gave her a winning smile, slapping her on the shoulder in a manner that didn’t feel entirely genuine, and Donna sighed and rubbed her forehead.

To be honest, she was kind of sick of bailing out spacemen and doing emotional triage on stunted gits. (Did Jack count as a spaceman if he was a human? Well, he was from the future and knew his way around a spaceship, so…probably, yes.)

In any case, Jack at least acknowledged that he had a problem and hopefully would get some fucking help for it of his own volition. Unlike the Doctor, who was so deep in his own denial she’d need a bloody bathysphere get on his level. All things considered, she was sort of perversely grateful that Jack had shot her offer down, because at that moment, Donna was just really, really, REALLY tired. Emotionally, physically, mentally, the whole nine yards and a foot.

She reached up and scratched at her forehead, red flakes caking under her nails. Oh yeah- the skullcap. She’d bled a bunch, and she really needed to wash that off her scalp. The Doctor presumably had gotten cleaned up already, seeing as he was already in the TARDIS, but she just hadn’t had time.

Jack patted her shoulder, and she looked up, dimly realizing that she’d been leaning on him. How long had she been doing that? She barely knew this bloke…

Donna straightened, and then it was Jack’s turn to pat her shoulder.

“You feeling alright?” he asked, a sparkle of mirth in his eyes- and no mockery in his tone.

“Tired,” Donna said with a sigh, staggering back towards the wall, “Very, very, very fucking tired. Two of him! Two bloody Doctors. I didn’t ask for_ that_ when I woke up this morning,” she grumbled, crouching down and running the sonic over the wall again. To her relief, the latch deep inside clunked and the wall started to slide up- to the sound of an appreciative whistle from Jack.

“How’d you work out there was a mainframe back there?” he asked, stepping forwards and reaching for the screen-and-keypad on a telescoping arm that emerged from its nook. This mainframe, like the other one, was protected by a glowing blue forcefield- the supercooling evident by the temperature counter on one of the computer banks, and the small amount of frost in one corner.

Donna beamed at him, proud but weary.

“Found the one downstairs. The Doctor was too busy mucking about being serious to notice the fact that the wall was humming an’ someone had shoved all the tables out of the way.”

Jack nodded, looking impressed. There was still a glint of something distant in his eyes, but he didn’t want to talk about it, and right now she was too tired to go chasing after this fucking space cowboy for his issues too.

Jack started fiddling with the mainframe, a lot less confidently than the Doctor had done, Donna noted. She watched Jack type in the oh-so-secure password and log in to the main screen, sitting back and biting his lip as he looked over what was in front of him.

Donna sighed.

“Do you want me to take a look?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Jack looked her up and down, confusion writ large on his face, and shook his head.

“Nah, I’m good. I think. Uh, Although…that terminal I was messing with earlier, that’s the security terminal. You wanna maybe have a look through that while I try and figure out how to shut this shit down?”

“Why would that be controlled from here, anyway? Why DID we come up here…?” Donna wondered aloud as she ambled over to the security terminal.

“I mean,” Jack said, glancing over his shoulder, “You’re right. If I wanted to shut down all the individual programs running out of the medical mainframe, we’d go down there. But see, I’m not the Doc, and the odds of me getting all that stuff shut down start at zero and go down from there. But what I DO know,” Jack grinned as he found something he wanted on his screen. “What I DO know is spaceships.”

“Oh? And how’s that supposed to help, then?”

“Simple. This is the bridge. You want control of ALL the systems on the ship from up here. All of it. Power goes down in quadrant B and nobody’s in Quadrant A right now? Seal the doors, pump the oxygen into quadrant B, and reroute the power to quadrant B. So what I’m gonna do is see if I can’t turn off the power to that medical mainframe, reroute it somewhere else. Like, say, into the distress beacon or something.”

“And you’re sure that’ll shut it off?” Donna had her back to him, and she turned to look at Jack suspiciously. She was the only person who’d seen both of the mainframes- and the mainframe down there was huge. And hold on, there was also-

“JACK!” Donna yelled, prompting him to spin around, “Don’t shut off _all_ the power down there. Don’t. There’s -the cargo hold’s got some big shield over a hole straight into space, if you shut off the power-“

Jack winced.

“Oh, great. Force field membrane? Really? What fucking century is this? Cheap bastards…” he muttered, “Alright, thanks for the heads-up Donna. I’ll uh…keep that in mind. Fuck me, that makes things a bit tricky…”

Jack resumed his muttering and fiddling, and Donna turned back to the terminal in front of her.

Jack had helpfully plugged in his data slate, and had opened it up to a screen showing another directory. Joy of joys. What was this ship running, fucking Windows XP?

Donna scanned over all the folders, mentally changing the weird symbol by each name to a little manilla file for her own convenience. One folder jumped out at her- SECURITY CAMERA ARCHIVES.

Donna tapped it, sighing at the huge list of folders that popped out. Organized by date, mercifully-

Wait.

She scrolled down the list, all the way to the bottom of the list- past hundreds of folders, with incrementing dates, looking for a specific date.

That bloke’s emails had stopped coming at a certain point- presumably, the same day that everyone had gone ratfuck insane. Perhaps the camera footage on that day would show what had happened?

The folder with the correct date was two up from the bottom- there was a folder for the day after, and then a decades-long gap…with the next folder for, presumably, right then.

“Uh, Jack?” Donna asked, “There’s a folder here for…I think it’s today. Should I…?”

“Delete it? Yes. Delete everything in there.” Jack said, “Delete it all.”

Donna nodded and tapped on the folder, holding over it until a menu cropped up. She tapped on the option to wipe the folder from the drive, drumming her fingers on the desk as the system deleted all that footage.

Then it was on to the date of the last e-mail.

Donna tapped on the folder and groaned. A huge number of files with insipid names like DECK_02_CAM_347 spooled off like a credits sequence for an action film, and she didn’t have the hour and a half necessary to sit through them all.

She scrolled down until she saw one reading DECK_05_BRIDGECAM2, and clicked on it.

A window popped up, showing a full-colour recording of the area outside of the bridge. Clean floors, not covered in dust. Speakers on the sides of the terminal started to play sound.

“YOU HAVE NO FUCKING RIGHT TO DO THIS!” Someone down the hallway yelled, and there was a sound like a blaster discharging. Screaming-

Donna sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, body going stiff.

The footage went on and on, the shouting getting louder and louder- it wasn’t just one person, it was dozens of them, hundreds maybe?

A man in a gold uniform came sprinting into shot, flashing a keycard at the lock and vanishing inside the bridge. Donna frowned. Who was that?

She closed out of that camera, because at that precise moment, the footage ended.

She shook her head and clicked on one reading DECK_05_BRIDGEINSIDECAM04.

The camera view showed a few seconds of an empty bridge, shot from the far end of it above the windshield- Donna glanced up, eyes falling on that very camera glinting at her from the shadows. She looked down and watched as the man in gold to came sprinting into the bridge. He started yelling, whirling around and grabbing something from a slot adjacent to the very terminal she was standing at.

“VOICE CONTROL ACTIVATE!” he thundered, “TERMINATE PATIENT RELEASE ON ALL DECKS, REPEAT, TERMINATE PATIENT RELEASE ON _ALL DECKS!”_

_“Processing. Warning: this command will require manual release of all patients. Patients not released within thirty-six hours may experience dehydration, starvation, and other medical complications. Override required.” _

“OVERRIDE CODE FIVE TWO ONE FOUR MIRAMICHI SEVEN SEVEN! CAPTAIN TAYLOR WALSH! NOW FUCKING DO IT!” he bellowed at the machine.

_“Processing. Code accepted. Locking down all patients.”_

“RIGHT, FUCK, GREAT! ORDERLIES ON DECK TWO, REPEAT, ALL ORDERLIES TO DECK TWO!”

_“Processing. Orderlies will be deployed. A minimal number of orderlies will not be deployed for safety reasons. Is this acceptable?”_

“YES! FUCK YOU, YES!”

_“Proccessing. Orderlies dispatched. Processing.”_

“RIGHT, NOW YOU NEED TO SHUT DOWN THE-“

Someone outside the bridge screamed “CAPTAIN! THEY’RE COMING!” and the man in gold swore and ran out of the room.

The bridge scene stood silent and unchanging for a second, and Donna was just about to click off-

_“Processing. Order in progress. Processing. Captain, you did not complete your directive.” _

The computer was talking aloud to itself- the only reply was the bridge doors hissing shut and locking themselves up.

_“Processing. Orders not received. Processing. Maintain current orders until new orders received. Processing. Emergency power reserves allocated. Processing….” _

Donna shuddered and closed the recording.

“Fuck me,” she muttered, “What happened on deck two?”

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Jack replied from RIGHT NEXT TO HER, which, fuck, how did he get there so quickly?!

Donna jumped a little and yelped, shooting a recalcitrant Jack a filthy glare.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that, cowboy!” she snapped, turning her attention back to the screen, “How’d the power redirect go?”

“Great. The mainframe’s dead as a doornail, so hopefully all the cells’ll be shut off too.” Jack leaned over her shoulder, examining the camera list, “And clearly you’ve had some luck tracking down the right footage.”

“Deck two,” Donna muttered, scrolling up towards the folder labelled as such. She tapped it and scrolled down to a random camera, tapping on the name.

“Don’t think we’ve been down to deck two,” Jack said, scratching his chin, “Wonder what happened down there?”

The picture that popped up was an overhead shot of a hallway much like the one they’d landed on. The cells were all closed, and a man in a labcoat was strolling up the hall with an orderly following behind him. Even in the footage it looked creepy, rolling treads and slowly waving arms.

“Fifteen minutes to go,” he muttered to the robot, “then we can get some bloody results. Why they’d do a standard shift change is beyond me…”

The footage jumped ahead as soon as he walked out of frame, same overhead shot- but this time, all the doors swung open all at once.

There were no orderlies, no nurses or doctors- the doors all just swung open, and there was a faint sound like sliding steel and human moans. Donna hissed in a breath between clenched teeth- all of them were awake. All at once.

The footage jumped ahead again, a few minutes later if the ticking timer in the corner was any indication- the hallways were full of people leaning against walls and doors, dressed in hospital gowns and not much else. One man leaned against a wall and made some noises like he was about to be sick- only for a piece of ice to hit the floor instead. What…?

“It was in my head,” someone behind the camera was saying, “it was- I saw – they, fucking blueskins, man, I don’t-“

“They can’t do this to us,” someone else said desperately, “We need to get out of here.”

“I ain’t going back in there,” the man who’d thrown up said with a whimper, “I ain’t fucking going back in there. I watched my wife die again, _I ain’t going back in there-“ _

Donna and Jack exchanged a look of horror.

“They didn’t go mad,” Donna whispered, “They weren’t crazy, they were _desperate.”_

Jack nodded mutely as the camera cut forwards another minute.

“-return to deck four!” a man in a labcoat was saying with an orderly beside him, “I understand you’re all upset. We’re working on adjusting the mainframe right now. It was simply a glitch-“

“A GLITCH?!” Someone in the crowd of angry patients roared- the hallway was packed, dozens of people staring at the man in the labcoat with hate on their faces.

“A glitch?! A fucking GLITCH!? I been in VR when it wigged out, fuckface, I KNOW what GLITCHY VR LOOKS LIKE!”

“You did this to us,” a woman at the front hissed, “YOU DID THIS TO US ON PURPOSE. I THOUGH THE TAURANS WERE JUST, were just, I-“

Her voice faltered, and the man in the labcoat put his hands up.

“I’m going to ask you all to follow me back down to deck four. Go back to your rooms and please calm down, or I’ll be forced to deploy the orderlies-“

“YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU TERRAN SUNBACK?! YOU CAN TAKE YOUR FUCKING ORDERLIES AND _RAM THEM UP YOUR ASS!” _

Whatever the man in the labcoat said next, it clearly was the wrong thing. The footage wigged out, and the next shot was of the tail end of the crowd stamping away- screaming in rage and fury, bellowing for freedom- and the camera stared dispassionately at the broken body of the man in the labcoat, blood smeared around him.

Donna clapped a hand over her mouth, and Jack put an arm around her shoulder.

“They killed him,” she whispered, “they- they-“

“They wanted out.” Jack said quietly, “Donna, they were being used like lab rats. They wanted out. They wanted out before these…these shitstains did to them what almost happened to your Doctor.”

Donna nodded and swallowed.

Jack leaned in and transferred all the files for those last two days onto the data slate, drumming his fingers as it transferred across.

“…I don’t want to watch any more,” Donna said quietly.

“Not much point anyway,” Jack replied, “Pretty obvious what happened. The patients wanted blood, killed the crew, the orderlies caught them all and put them in cells or got destroyed. Nobody gets released from their cells, they all die of thirst or starve to death. Everyone’s dead, ship goes on emergency power and drifts in space for a decade...”

“And then we showed up.” Donna said quietly, sighing.

“And then we showed up, and your Doctor got caught in the crossfire.” Jack agreed, rubbing his forehead.

The download completed, and he unplugged the data slate and handed it to Donna.

The two of them stood in silence for a while, staring out the window.

Donna shook her head and blew out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

They shared a look, and Jack pulled out his phone. He dialed and held it up to his ear, slinging his free arm around Donna’s shoulder.

“Doc,” he said, tone a bit flat and joyless, “We uh, got the security footage. And I- the medical mainframe’s offline. I switched off the power to it, so hopefully, all the cells should be dead in the water. You broadcasting the…? Thanks, Doc. Alright, we’ll see you in a minute…yeah, I set off the distress beacon. Yeah. See you.”

He hung up and pocketed the small device, giving Donna a sharp nod.

“Alright,” he said, “I guess…that’s it, then.”

Donna nodded.

They stepped out of the bridge together, the doors hissing shut behind them, and began the long walk back to the TARDIS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the backlog is still MIA, but considering how close we are to finishing this beast, that might be for the best. We'll see how things shake out. 
> 
> Anyway, let's all just sing along: if you liked it, hated it, or want me to get beat to death by an angry mob, leave a comment! Because if I don't have that line in all my author's notes, the Great Old One that lives in my wall will devour me in my sleep. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	22. Chapter 22

Jack and Donna walked back, footsteps echoing off the empty hallways. Donna looked at the rows of empty darkened cells- they’d walked in silence to the elevators and down to this floor, both lost in thought.

Finally, she could bear it no longer.

“They’ll have to forget, won’t they?” she said, a sigh on her words.

Jack nodded.

“Yeah. We’ll have to forget. And that includes me. It’s shitty, but…”

Donna rubbed her face, despair clenching at her heart.

“That’s just…it’s so rubbish. They’ve both made so much progress, and it’s going to be undone in a stroke, all because Time will throw a tantrum if everything’s not back to exactly the way it was, right?”

Jack hummed thoughtfully, and Donna quirked an eyebrow.

“What? Am I wrong or something?”

Jack stopped walking and looked out one of the windows, eyes locked on a distant star. It shone but didn’t twinkle- the lack of an atmosphere meant that no star could twinkle out here.

“Spit it out, cowboy. I’m as unenthused about this as you are.” Donna said grumpily, “An’ I know my spaceman is just champing at the bit to wipe all this away and go back to making himself miserable, like how he always does. So stop fannying about and tell me.”

“Well,” Jack said slowly, “Time Loops…don’t_ necessarily _need to work like that. Where everything is always the same, time after time, into infinity. Some time loops aren’t as rigid as that…they teach you this shit, when you go through Time Agent training. It’s always best practice to assume all causal loops are rigid and to never attempt to sequence-break, but…theoretically, I suppose…”

“What ARE you on about?” Donna said, folding her arms, “You’re quoting some manual I haven’t read. Tell me straight what you’re blathering about!”

“Right. So. I- look, I’m not a Time Lord, alright? Only know this shit theoretically. The Doc probably knows what kind of time loop we’re in just by instinct, and- right, the point. Basically, time loops aren’t ALWAYS fixed in place. They can occasionally be…flexible. If you hit all the right beats when they’re supposed to be hit, you can fiddle around with the small stuff in-between. Sometimes. I’m not saying we’re in a mutable time loop right now, but-“

“You’re saying there’s a chance?” Donna said, staring at him with wide eyes, “You’re saying there’s a chance for all of this to change?”

“Possibly. I- Look, Donna, I’m not a Time Lord. Time Agent training prioritizes not making an impact and minimizing damage. All the shit I know is theoretical. The Doc, he’s LIVED this shit. He knows it like he knows his TARDIS, you feel me? I’m just some kid playing in the sandbox as far as this stuff goes. I don’t know if this is a time loop that can be messed with, but…”

Donna nodded.

“But there’s a chance.” She finished, humming thoughtfully.

Jack stared at her. He could see the wheels turning in her head- Donna was plotting something, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be around when it came to fruition.

“Look,” he said, “I’m just saying this because you asked, okay? Messing around with time loops is dangerous business nine times out of ten. Don’t…Don’t go mucking about with it just because you can, because that always ends in disaster. Just ask Rose. Anyway, speaking of time loops and shit, we gotta go put that post-it note in your room.”

“Right, yes. Of course. Complete the loop and all that.” Donna said with a nod, jerking her head towards the younger TARDIS, “Let’s go, then. Still not entirely sure why you think my room’s going to be there before I’ve even stepped foot in your TARDIS, but-“

“I think the Doc said once that the TARDIS is transtemporal- she’s everywhere in time and space. And, well, my TARDIS is less than a hundred steps from yours. Pretty sure she’s talking to herself. Was your room all empty and coral when you stepped into it for the first time?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Donna shook her head as they turned the corner and the past Doctor’s TARDIS hoved into view.

“Right, yeah. That’s…Yeah.” Jack shrugged. “That’s weird. Mine took a week to stop looking like a hotel room that actually got cleaned. Anyway. I’m gonna go get that note put together.”

They stepped inside the TARDIS together, and Donna narrowed her eyes at the back of Jack’s head.

The wheels were still turning, and she had a plan.

* * *

Of course, all of Donna’s careful machinations were completely derailed when she rounded the corner along with Jack and saw what the Doctor in Leather was eating.

He was standing around in the hallway by the door to the media room (slightly ajar), with a plate of snacks that looked for all the world like…like…

“What the _fuck_ are those?” Donna spluttered, staring as he lifted another one to his mouth and took a bite. The smug fucker swallowed his morsel and grinned at her.

“Sardines in marmite on saltines. Want one? They’re great!” he said with a cheeky smile, and Donna’s stomach did an involuntary flip.

Sandwiched between two saltine crackers was a blob of marmite about half an inch thick, and suspended in it were four or five tiny dead fish. She had to swallow a gag of revulsion- it seemed the Doctor’s questionable taste in food extended to past bodies he’d stolen, too.

“That’s…horrible…” she croaked, eyes falling away from the disgusting plate and falling on the bag of crisps he was holding under his arm.

“How’s, uh, Rose…?” Jack asked, looking pretty green around the gills himself. The Doctor sighed and gestured with his disgusting little cracker sandwich at the media room door. A flash of irritation and jealousy sparked in his blue eyes, and if Donna didn’t know any better, she’d have laughed.

“Pretty Boy’s practically glued to her side. Don’ wanna interrupt them.” He muttered in a voice indicating that he very much did want to interrupt them. The Doctor sighed and stuffed another horrid cracker sandwich into his mouth.

Donna just nodded slowly, sharing a look of sheer bewilderment with Jack.

“Well, that’s- great,” Donna said slowly. On the bright side, he was doing as she’d said for once and getting some damned rest. Which was, admittedly, an improvement on his usual default of “I’ll just act manic so nobody sees my Time Tears”. On the other hand…

“I need to talk to him,” she blurted, and folded her arms when the Doctor quirked an eyebrow.

Jack was staring at her, eyebrows drawn. He was mentally running over their conversation, and she could see the dots connecting in his head as the look of horror slowly dawned.

Before Jack or the Doctor in leather could say anything, Donna shoved her way into the media room, eyes falling on the back of the couch.

The TV was flickering in the dark, showing some educational program explaining how school busses were made, and all she could see was the Doctor and Rose wrapped up together and leaning on the arm of the sofa. It was heartwarming how they looked together, what little she could see from that angle- cuddled up close, the Doctor more relaxed than she’d ever seen in her life, and Donna bit her lip and started to back away. Okay, right, bad idea. She’d talk to him after he’d had his fill of-

“Donna? Donna, s’that you?” Rose said, sitting up quickly, grabbing the back of the sofa to pull herself upright.

“Er, yeah. We’re back. Jack and me.” Donna said lamely, and the Doctor sat up a minute later. In the flickering light, she could sort of barely make out his expression- relaxed and happy, but not quite fully.

“Donna?” he said, “How’d it go? Did you get everything turned off, send up the beacon…?”

“All done.” Jack said from somewhere behind her, and Rose grinned.

“Great. Thanks so much, you two. Now, Donna, I heard something about wanting a chat…?” the Doctor started, and she nodded.

“Right, well, if you two are gonna go off and have a little chit-chat, I’m going for a walk. Can’t feel my feet after all that lying down. Jack!” Rose said with the slightest edge of desperation in her voice, “Walk with me?”

“Sure thing, Rosie,” Jack said evenly, offering his hand as Rose hopped up and bounced around to the other side of the couch. She paused there, turning back and favouring Donna’s Doctor with a small smile.

“I’ll be back in a little bit,” she said softly, “Really, I do just need a walk. My legs have gone all stiff from sitting on the sofa for so long.”

The Doctor looked like he was going to protest for a moment, opening his mouth and mentally preparing his opening statements. And in response, Rose impulsively leaned over the sofa and planted a kiss on his cheek. He made a little noise, and the second she had her back turned he touched his cheek softly, as though he couldn’t believe it was real.

As Jack and Rose left, Donna closed the door behind them and toed off her shoes. She wandered over to the sofa, where the Doctor was now sitting against the arm, and took up her usual space on the other side of the couch.

“So,” Donna said, eyes falling on the flickering light of the TV in the darkened media room, “How’d it go?”

* * *

“So,” Jack said with a smirk, “How’d the Doctor sandwich treat ya? Don’t leave me hangin’, Rosie. I want aaaaaaall the gory details- you’re probably the first human to have two Time Lords all to yourself!”

Rose snorted.

“S’not like that, Jack,” she said, “We didn’t do anything. Just…talked. A lot. It’s…kind of exhausting, really. Two of him, I mean. I needed a little break.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” Jack said kindly, patting her on the shoulder, “I can imagine that two of him would be kinda overwhelming. You, though, how are you doing?”

Rose sighed, kicking her foot as they walked down a hallway towards the bedrooms.

“I…I have to forget all this, don’t I? Forget-Y’know…Finally spitting it out? Go back to how things were?”

Jack nodded sadly.

“Time loops are like that. Time loops suck.” Jack said sagely, stopping to pull Rose in for a hug.

She reached up and hugged him back- Jack, her rock, her support. She’d cried on his shoulder more than once about her feelings for the Doctor, and now she knew they were reciprocated, the idea of forgetting, of going back to how things were-

It was unbearable.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block it out.

“I don’t want to forget,” she said quietly, and Jack hugged her back.

“I know, Rose. I know.”

They separated a moment later, Rose swallowing a lump of tears and looking around.

“Right, well, I- what are we doin’, exactly?” she asked, and Jack gestured at all the doors.

“I need a pad of sticky notes and a pen. Oh, and we need to find Donna’s room. It’s got to be here already, otherwise the time loop doesn’t complete and the universe implodes, or something.” Jack said, “So, uh, let’s go, I guess?”

“I’ve got some sticky notes in my room,” Rose said, wiping away a stray tear and thanking her lucky stars she hadn’t put on makeup that morning, “An’ a pen. Hope you like pink.”

“Pink works. Pink works just fine.” Jack said, rubbing his hands together, “Alrighty, then. Let’s do it. And…Rose?”

“Yeah?”

Jack pulled her in, putting an arm around her shoulder.

“Time’s not as fixed as it looks.” he whispered.

* * *

The Doctor smiled weakly at Donna.

“It went.” he said, “It went alright. You don’t realize what you’ve got till it’s gone, hey?” he sighed and rubbed at his eyeballs, slumping back against the sofa.

“How about you, Donna? Holding up?” there was that concern on his face she was used to, to the point of ignoring his own needs. Donna smiled and nodded.

“Don’t worry about me, spaceman. I’m holding up. Although, after this, you owe me a trip to a resort. And I really do mean it this time. No more evil spaceships, you got that?”

The Doctor nodded and chuckled.

“I’ll do my best, Donna. The TARDIS sometimes doesn’t listen to me.”

“Yeah, that much was obvious to anyone with a working pair of eyeballs.” She said with a fond smile that slowly shrank away.

“Doctor,” she said after a pause, “What…what exactly are you going to do to all their memories?”

“Hide them,” he said flatly, “Lock them all up so they can’t alter the time stream with past knowledge they shouldn’t have. Time loops aren’t a joke, Donna, and I can’t just go around fiddling with my own past all willy-nilly, it could be disastrous.”

“Can’t you?” Donna said, folding her arms and looking at him sternly, “You seem plenty happy to interfere in everyone else’s timelines. You save Caecilius and his family, didn’t you? Didn’t we?”

The Doctor turned his head, a scowl on his face.

“Donna,” he said sharply, “I CAN’T leave their memories intact. Trust me when I say this: I want to. Badly. Very, very badly. I want to leave it all in place. But I can’t. I just CAN’T. If I don’t take all their memories out, then I’ll go on remembering what I’ll regenerate into, and-“

“Regenerate?”

“-Later. Now’s not the time. The point is, I CAN’T leave their memories intact, Donna. Time loops don’t work like that. You’ve got to hit all the main beats or else the whole loop collapses, and then you get a paradox. And paradoxes are dangerous. Universe-endingly dangerous. Do you understand, Donna?” he looked stern, now- every one of his 900 years shining out of his ancient eyes. She could see the Time Lord below the bluster and smiles and giddy glee- she could see the man used to shouldering the burdens of all of time, all alone.

“That wasn’t what I was suggesting,” Donna said quietly, looking away, “You didn’t ask what I meant. Actually, you didn’t even let me say what I was thinking.”

“Didn’t need to. The implications were clear. I can’t leave their memories intact, Donna. I can’t.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that!” Donna said with a scowl all her own, “So maybe stop jumping to conclusions and LISTEN to me, spaceman!”

The Doctor, to her shock, closed his mouth and went quiet.

Donna took a moment to martial her thoughts into some semblance of order, and set off on her tirade.

“Fixed points in time, right? That’s what you call things that can’t be changed?” she said, and when he nodded, she kept going, “I’m not saying leave _all_ their memories intact. I’m not suggesting that at all. But aren’t time loops sometimes a bit flexible? Can’t you bend them a little?”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes.

“Who’s been telling you all of that?” he asked, and Donna smirked.

“Who d’you think? Jack.”

She could see a long and disjointed speech brewing in that spiky-haired head of his, and Donna held up a hand to cut him off.

“Look, Doctor,” she said, “I’m not some fancy Time Lord like you. I don’t know what is or isn’t going to happen, or whatever it is you do in that big thick head of yours. But I am saying that maybe…maybe you don’t need to take EVERYTHING away. Maybe, Doctor, just _maybe, _your regret and misery _isn’t a fixed point.”_

The Doctor opened his mouth.

And closed it again.

His eyes slowly widened, sliding away from Donna and fixating on something only he could see.

She beamed smugly, swelling with pride.

“Just…think it over, will you?” she said, “I’m gonna go take a shower. Still covered in blood and sweat and who knows what else.”

She stood up and patted the Doctor on the shoulder, smiling down at him when he turned to face her.

The wheels were still turning in his head, and he still wasn’t quite focusing on the present moment. He reached up and touched his cheek again, as though reliving the ghost of Rose’s kiss.

Donna stepped out of the room, giving a broad smile to Leather Jacket, and striding away- letting the Doctor stew in whatever thoughts were buzzing around in his planet-sized brain.

* * *

Donna hummed, wandering around the hallways where the bedrooms were. Most of the doors were locked or full of stuff belonging to somebody else- a reminder that she wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last. Finally, after sauntering on for half a century, a door popped open in front of her to a blank room with a bed, a closet, and an en-suite bathroom. No rug, no fancy furniture- just plain white paint that transitioned into coral-coloured walls and roundels. Like a nondescript hotel room, reimagined by the TARDIS.

Donna shrugged and stepped inside, closing the door behind her and walking into the en-suite.

Her jaw dropped.

The sumptuously tiled washroom was a dead ringer for HER bathroom back on the TARDIS- complete with fluffy towels in a neat pile. The only difference was a selection of soaps and things- all random, although her favourites were among them. And a hairbrush and fancy alien hair dryer, which-

Maybe all the TARDIS washrooms were like this? Maybe this was the default?

Whatever. Ponder later. Wash blood out of hair now.

Donna hummed, making sure the door was locked, and pulled her shirt off.

The shower was pleasantly warm and gave her an opportunity to not think about much of anything- not least of all the odds the Doctor might listen to her for once. Hopefully.

Maybe.

He really did need someone with him, to help him be a better human being- no. Wait. A better person. There, that was better.

She hummed as she washed her scalp, the dried blood washing off and getting rid of the horrible sticky clumpy feeling that had been tugging at her hair since that stupid skullcap had come off. Talk about stone-age stuff- she wasn’t a nurse, but sharp pokey bits of metal jabbing into the bloodstreams of multiple people had to be unsanitary.

“Hopefully I don’t get tetanus…” she muttered, finishing her hair and spending a few minutes just enjoying the feeling of warm water pounding away all the stresses of the past…

…Four-ish hours. Maybe. She’d honestly lost track sometime around the Doctor getting his head stuck in a demonic bike helmet.

Whatever.

Donna finished cleaning herself off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and smiling. The TARDIS had gathered up all her clothes, carelessly scattered on the floor, and they were now neatly folded in a clean pile on the bathroom counter. Clean and pressed, if she had to guess.

“Thank you,” She said, looking up at the ceiling fondly.

A few minutes to get dressed and blast her hair dry with the high-tech hair dryer, and Donna stepped out into a very different room than the one she’d entered.

The sumptuous wood paneling, the window, the reading nook- her bed with its plush sheets- she panned over the mess of furniture and walls and floorspace that hadn’t been there fifteen minutes earlier. HER bedroom had been called forth from the plain hotel room, and her eyes fell on the floor-length mirror by the dresser.

The one that, conspicuously, did NOT have a pink sticky note affixed to it.

The door to her room was slightly ajar, and Donna could hear Jack and Rose having a conversation somewhere in the hallway. She leaned out the door, smiling at the two of them- they looked hopelessly lost. Jack was clutching a pack of sticky notes and a pen, a serious look on his face as he scanned over the doors for nameplates or identifying marks.

“Oi! Rose, Cowboy! You’re looking for my room, yeah? Reckon I found it.”

The two of them hurried over, and Donna didn’t miss Jack’s gasp when he stepped inside.

“What the fuck? How long’ve you been here? Fifteen minutes?! Not fucking fair!” he yelled, “I was sleeping in a hotel room for like a WEEK before she did mine up! You got yours right away!?”

Donna shrugged. “The first time I walked in the TARDIS, this room was just here, like this. I guess-“

“-You already made it. Or SHE already made it, right now, for you. God, of course.” Jack groaned, “Alright, whatever. We can split hairs later.” He stomped over to the dresser, plonking the large pack of sticky-notes down and grabbing the pen.

And he froze.

“What did it say on the note?” he looked back at Donna, as did Rose, and she bit her lip.

“Don’t…remember the exact wording,” she confessed, “Uh…something about… how if the Doctor ever gets his head stuck someplace, I should give you a call. And then the TARDIS phone number.”

Jack nodded.

“Alright, I’ll try it. How about…” and his pen was busy for a few moments, scraping against the paper.

He held up his note triumphantly a minute later, letting Donna inspect it.

_Hey Donna,_

_If the Doc ever gets his head stuck someplace and you can’t get him out, give me a call. _

_-Jack. _

_PS: I do NOT mean stuck up his ass, that’s your job to fix._

_PPS: Don’t tell the Doctor I left this note here. He’ll freak out._

Below that was the phone number again, too long to memorize but probably correct.

Donna nodded. “Yeah, good enough. That’s basically what I remember.”

She stuck it to the mirror roughly where she remembered it, and turned around to look at Jack and Rose.

“So,” Donna said, “You both have to forget all this, don’t you? Forget all about me?”

They both nodded sadly.

“Well,” she said, “If I never see you two again…it’s been bloody brilliant.”

Jack offered a hand for a handshake, which Donna grabbed and used to pull him in for a hug. Not a long one- two pats on the back, and then she pulled away, spreading her arms for Rose.

The young blonde hopped into Donna’s arms and hugged her back, surprising strength in both their embraces. They pulled apart, and Donna looked at Rose sadly.

“You do make him better,” she said, “I can see that already. You help him a lot, you know?”

Rose nodded. “I know.”

There was a pause, and then Jack interjected.

“Brilliant, eh?” he echoed, “You’d do it again, then?”

“What? Oh, FUCK no. Not this. Not on a rubbish _Mir_\- wannabe with my spaceman’s brains getting cooked in a skillet. But- oh, you get what I mean.”

“…Wasn’t Mir a space station?” Rose wondered aloud as they all turned towards the door.

“I don’t care. Mir was a thing in space and it fell to Earth, so therefore it was rubbish-“

“Rosie’s right. Mir was a space station in orbit, this is a spaceship in interstellar space. They’re hugely different-“

“Oh, shush you! Both of you. Let’s just get out of here, yeah? Keep our Doctors from gnawing each other’s heads off.” Donna huffed, holding the door open for the other two.

“Then we’d better hurry,” Rose said with a snigger, “They’ve been unattended for a whole fifteen minutes. Last time I left the Doctor all by himself for that long, he blew up me job!”

* * *

As the three companions walked back towards the media room, a sound like someone smashing a bass guitar into some flagstones echoed down the hallway. All three of them stopped.

“…What the fuck…?” Jack wondered, and Donna’s eyes went wide.

She’d heard something like that before- harsh, discordant, almost-musical screeching, overlaid with tones of Estuary and fury. The Doctor- and he was swearing in his mother tongue, like he sometimes did under the console.

She rushed towards the media room door, hanging slightly ajar, and froze.

A series of noises like someone smashing a xylophone apart with a sledgehammer slammed into her ears, overlaid with furious shouting and the deep rumble of the North- now it was Rose and Jack’s turn to look shocked, scooting up next to her and all peering around the door as quietly as they could.

The lights were still off, the TV was still on, and the two Doctors were sitting on the sofa, three feet apart. And that was the limits of their civility, because they were facing each other, and gesturing, and pointing, and shouting and swearing in a language the TARDIS wasn’t translating.

Whatever Leather Jacket had just said apparently smarted, and Pinstripes’s retort was like the feedback screech from a microphone and a speaker times twelve. The three humans winced and scooted away slightly, all staring at each other.

Leather Jacket’s riposte was quick and decisive, and all of them snorted- it sounded like an entire orchestra pit being simultaneously tazed.

The next point raised had Jack chuckling.

“Sounds like someone’s beating a guitar to death, _with their dick!_” he sniggered, and the other two broke down into fits of quiet giggles.

From there, the argument escalated, until it sounded like a choir composed of half of Lancashire was screaming German death metal to a soundtrack of hammering steel and metal scraping on metal and a trumpet player being tenderly fucked up the ass midway through Taps.

Meanwhile, on the other side, a choir of half the Thames estuary was howling along to only the most aggressive of dubstep, the backbeat of windows being broken with a cricket bat while a pianist on several lines of cocaine attempted to keep up with the sheet music for Beethoven’s fifth painted on the wings of a nervous dragonfly.

By this point, the sound of the argument had become so absurd that Rose, Donna, and Jack had all abandoned any idea of laughing quietly, and were currently sprawled across the floor, the door, and the wall cackling in delight at the sheer stupidity before them. Partway through one of his rebuttals, the Doctor in leather finally noticed their audience, and his voice trailed off- he’d shot to his feet, jabbing a finger in the face of his future self. His head turned slowly, eyes locked on Donna, who’d just collapsed against the doorframe in a fit of giggles.

“Donna?!” he spluttered, “How long have you- I mean-“

“Now hold on! It’s _not funny!”_ her Doctor protested, “That’s a serious argument! We were discussing-“

“Stop laughing! S’not a bloody joke!” Leather replied, both of them scowling, “This idiot- we’re- it was a serious debate!”

“Right, sure thing,” Rose said through a fit of subsiding giggles, “You two were ABSOLUTELY havin’ a pivotal discussion and totally NOT just bitching at each other, right Doctor?”

“Oh yeah. Totally not just bitching.” Jack giggled, “that one word, sounds a bit like an orchestra getting electrocuted? Totally not a swear word, totally don’t hear it _all the time _from under the console-“

“What, you mean-“ Pinstripes lapsed into the series of jangling noises that sounded like further violence against the orchestra, prompting a fresh round of gasping wheezes from their spectators, “That’s not a WORD, Jack, it’s a complex concept with the general meaning of, uh… “I hope you become unstuck in time and your cousins forget you were ever loomed”-“

“-With a side order of ‘stick your TARDIS up your arse, to be fair-“

“Well, YES, but I wasn’t going to tell THEM that- oh, here we go, they’re still laughing.”

“Don’t you humans need to BREATHE?!” Leather Jacket growled, and the two Doctors watched in annoyance as their spectators gradually got their bearings back.

As the last of the giggles subsided, the two Doctors shared a look.

“Anyway,” Pinstripes said awkwardly, “We, uh…”

“Reached a conclusion. Had a long talk, an’ reached an agreement.”

“DID you now?” Donna said with a smirk- one that slowly faded under the glare of the two stone-faced expressions staring back at her.

“Yeah. We did,” her Doctor said quietly, “Jack set off the beacon, yeah? Help’s on the way?”

Jack nodded, and the Doctors shared another stone-faced look.

“We need to get back to our timeline,” Leather Jacket said flatly, “Pinstripes here’s agreed to send off a message sayin’ where the authorities can find the data slates we all gathered. You left the note, right?”

A round of nods.

“Then it’s time,” Pinstripes said, gesturing towards the door.

“What?! Right now?!” Jack said with wide eyes, “I- we can’t-?”

“We can’t stay just a bit longer?” Rose pleaded, and the Doctor- both Doctors- shook their heads sadly as they stepped towards the shoe rack by the door.

“It’s time to go, Rose,” her Doctor said flatly, “We’ve been at this long enough. Any longer, and the timelines-“

“Doesn’t end well. Not for anyone.” Pinstripes agreed.

“…I don’t want to go,” Rose said softly, and she was pulled into a tight hug by her Doctor.

The future-Doctor turned away, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to feel the changing memories- could feel his past self’s fear and sorrow at the loss of Rose. He’d still have her, but as a friend, as a companion. Not as someone he could hug and hold and love whenever he wanted.

And the way the time stream was beckoning, he’d never have that relationship with Rose. Never. Neither of them would. It would be pining for more than friendship until she was stolen from him by the void.

“It’s time to go,” he said again, and everyone turned to face him and his stony expression.

“…I don’t want to forget,” Rose said softly, and the Doctor froze for a second.

Brown eyes looked down on his precious girl, his favourite person, and his hearts stuttered. And for a moment, a possibility flashed before him- a timeline winked into existence, looping back and lighting up a dead branch with glowing gold, before stuttering out again like a candle in the wind.

“…I know, Rose. I know.” He whispered, eyes full of regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey, this fic's got fanart now, as drawn by the lovely summerartist! 
> 
> [Check it out!](https://summerartist.tumblr.com/post/190258695751/fanart-inspired-by-rockymountainrattlesnakes-fic)
> 
> Oh, and for anyone curious, some kindly souls have provided a sonic recreation of some bits of the argument. It's a pale shadow of the real deal, of course, but hopefully this will provide some...understanding. [Listen to it here...though not while drinking anything.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wiRivDMIYM)
> 
> Anyway, I'm snowed in today, so possible Monday update! Possibly.
> 
> If you liked it, hated it, or want me to write faster already, leave a comment! I love and treasure them all. And take a look at Summerartist's fanart! <3


	23. Chapter 23

Sometimes, timelines hung on the smallest things.

The Doctor knew this well. And examining the swirl of Time around him, around them, he could already tell that someone had tampered with this time loop. That something had changed already- that this iteration of the loop was different to all the ones that had gone before.

The question of free will and causal loops was a dense one. When trapped in a time loop, were you just acting through the same motions as you had an infinite number of times before, and would keep following the script into infinity? The type of loop was the key. Some were like that, demanding rigid adherence to the pattern of actions- they’d always be the same, always, and there was nothing anyone could do.

And then there was the flexible kind, the kind that had a string of fixed points with some flexibility in how they could be hit and what happened in-between.

The Doctor could feel that Donna had already diverted this loop slightly, nudged it off course ever so. It was flexible, this loop. It could change.

It could change…

He leaned against a coral strut, mind lost in his machinations. They’d all gathered in the console room, watching his past self setting his TARDIS to dematerialize on a timer. He, the present Doctor, would hit the switch to start the countdown after he’d finished erasing everyone’s memories. That would give Donna and himself time to get out of the TARDIS and back to their own. And it’d also keep his past self from poking around on the hospital ship- as far as he’d be concerned, this whole adventure would never have happened.

The Doctor looked over at Rose, who was wrapped around her Doctor in leather. Helping him press switches, giggling and laughing at his jokes. Cuddling up close- as though she was trying to get her fill before it all was obliterated. Before they went back to just being good friends, pining for each other in painful ignorance until Canary Wharf snatched her from his arms.

The Doctor looked at the floor.

_Your misery is not a fixed point. _

It would be incredibly selfish of him to risk the stability of the time loop by changing history. Incredibly, incredibly selfish. Risky as all hell, and indescribably selfish. A stable time loop was a fine state for time to be in- collapsing one would make a paradox…

If he’d just had the balls to tell her how he felt, knowing that it was reciprocated, he wouldn’t have been such easy prey for this damned ship. The fake Rose in his nightmare had played him like a dime-store whistle, partly because he’d been so desperate for his second chance to tell her how he’d felt. And now…he had a chance to set right that wrong.

It would just be unspeakably selfish for him to do so.

As he watched his past self wrap an arm around Rose, a deep warmth welled up inside him. An echo from the past, a memory of this moment, that love. Time was changing, even if his past self never remembered it.

And selfish old fucker that he was, he wanted more of it. He couldn’t steal Rose back from the void, but he could steal her love from Time. Couldn’t he?

The timeline was a muddled mess, and tugging on it prompted his past self to look up and fix him with a pointed glare.

“You mind not playing god while I’m trying to save the universe?” Leather and ears rumbled, ice-blue eyes boring through his soul. The Doctor shrugged and looked at the floor.

“What’s he gone and done now?” Donna’s voice called from the jumpseat, where she was sitting trading silly stories with Jack.

The Doctor had already decided that he wasn’t touching Donna’s memories of this. It didn’t affect anything- she was from the future, and couldn’t possibly derail this loop herself if she wanted to. Aside from the fact that she already had, somehow.

“Nothin’.” His past self replied to Donna, continuing to press buttons and set dials. Very. Fucking. Slowly.

The Doctor snorted. If any of his companions knew how to fly the TARDIS- really properly knew, not just the basics he’d shown them so they could get home in a pinch- they’d know that old Leather Jacket was doing the TARDIS equivalent of polishing his headlights and vacuuming all the seats before setting off on a road trip. Half those settings were pointless time-wasting- not that Rose knew that.

The Doctor closed his eyes, feeling the desperate love his past self was stealing for them by wasting so much time.

He wasn’t the only one being selfish right then.

The responsible thing to do, the thing his people would expect of him, would be to erase it all. Be a good Time Lord and ensure the sanctity of the time stream, stifle his own Emotions and listen to his Intellect- Emotions were the siren song of lesser races, and Intellect the mark of a higher being. Rationality would win the day, always, and his duty was to heed its call and protect Time itself.

His people were all fucking dead, by his hand. After their war and their vaunted Intellect had inflamed their madness and greed, and warped them from Lords into Tyrants.

Humanity was still alive, and Humanity said something different. Humanity said listen to your Emotions, because that’s all you are. Humanity _felt_, and let their emotions rule. And that lead to misery and misunderstanding and so much tragedy, but humans would last till the end of the universe, till the last star died in the dark.

Donna caught his eye from across the room, and she quirked an eyebrow at him. He knew exactly what she’d say. And then Jack gave him a meaningful look with his arms crossed- like Jack had him sussed out too.

Humanity had cast their vote.

Risk the universe on a bugfuck insane gamble, or do his duty as the last Time Lord?

The Doctor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The last switch clunked into place- he knew from the sound that it was the correct one. The TARDIS was all set, and it was time.

“Alright!” he said, “That’s enough mucking about. We need to go.”

“Let’s get this over with,” his past self sighed, and then hit him with a cold glare that very pointedly said _do your fucking job._

Right, that was the Time Lord vote in the can.

“Right. How d’you want to do this? Knock you all out, or…?”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Thirty minutes, I reckon. We’ll wake up in the vortex, none the wiser.” His past self said sagely, and the Doctor nodded.

“I’ll go first,” Jack said as he stood up, “Give the two of them another few minutes. Oh, hey, while you’re in there, if you find those two years of memories the Agency stole from me, you mind pulling them out of whatever nook they got crammed in?”

The Doctor snorted. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Jack said with a fond slap on the shoulder. He turned back towards Donna and threw her a wink.

“Later, gorgeous. Take care of yourself, you hear me? Travelling with this guy ain’t easy.”

Donna snorted. “Oh, I know, Cowboy. Don’t worry about me.”

A wistful smile crossed her face.

“Goodbye, Jack.” She said, sounding a little choked up.

The Doctor took up his place in front of Jack, placing his fingertips to the man’s temples.

Everything went black as he plummeted, pulling his awareness down into an endless black void. The noise of Jack’s mind was a lot louder than Rose’s generally was- simply to do with Jack being a telepath. The Doctor fell and fell, landing with both feet on a solid metal surface. He opened his eyes and looked around the inner workings of Jack’s mind- find the memories, stop them up, and get out.

Jack’s mind was laid out like a ship- long, cavernous hallways with sharp bends, labyrinthine and complex. Vast halls that snaked on for miles, the ship a city floating in the void. Grass grew in small patches along the corners of the walls and the floor, snaking along the endless corridors. Lightbulbs on strings glowed from the ceiling, lighting the ship brightly and making it feel warm and cozy. LED’s winked in sequence, and the Doctor could feel the pulse of Jack’s thoughts humming through every wire. The LED strings embedded in the walls all glowed bright greens and yellows in alarm. He hopped up, catching himself and floating in midair- it was an awful lot faster than walking, and he needed to be quick.

The corridors were lined with open doors- modules connected to the ship’s superstructure, he supposed- and the Doctor peered into the nearest one.

Inside was a cocktail bar with geometric tiling on the floors. Curved red booths and a curved red bar, empty of patrons but richly tiled and appointed with an art deco flair. The place was elegantly decorated- and the walls of the small, cozy space had been converted into a glowing blue shelving rack that wrapped around the whole space, unbroken.

The walls were full of bottles, uncorked and uncapped. Bottles of every shape and size and make and type, but all of them clear- and all of them glowing with multicoloured liquid. Some were red, some were blue, some pulsed between colours. The Doctor floated over to a nearby bottle, touching the side of it gently- just enough to confirm that these were what he was after. A flash of memory hit him- dancing with a beautiful woman on a colony ship. A younger Jack, who was still a Time Agent. The Doctor nodded and pulled away, leaving the cocktail bar behind and drifting down the hallways.

Dozens of doors to open bars and pubs drifted past- some tiled in the same style, some warm wood panelled, some shaking with bass like nightclubs in the pitch dark, the only illumination the glow from the bottles. The Doctor rejected these dozens of modules- they weren’t what he was after. All the doors looked old, anyway. One or two doors he approached, only for them to immediately slam shut in his face- and every light on the ship dimmed, the LED’s flaring an angry red. The Doctor took a step back, putting his hands up, and kept going.

Finally he drifted up to a new-looking door- freshly painted, and wide open. He poked his head inside and smiled.

It was so small it was practically a broom closet. Spartan metal flooring, jagged metal racks with a diamond pattern embossed in the steel. A half-dozen bottles, glowing above a single shitty table for one and a chair that appeared to be made of wires and garbage bubblegum welds.

He reached for a bottle, square-sided with a swirling black liquid inside it. Fingertips brushed the glass, and he was swamped by the memory of Donna gasping in horror over a dead and dusty skeleton surrounded by long-dried blood. The Doctor shivered as he pulled himself out of the memory, grabbing the bottle and examining it.

It was uncorked- open and patiently waiting for someone to come along and taste its contents. This whole closet was where Jack’s memories of his time on the ship were, then. It always took a bit of searching to find memories…just a blessing human brains were so smoothly laid-out.

The Doctor looked at the memory in his hands, the glass bottle, and pressed his thumb to the top of it. Focusing, he sealed it up slowly and carefully- as his thumb pulled away, a cork formed in its wake, stopping up the bottle. He placed it back on the shelf- and then touched his fingertips to it again.

He put a time-lock on the memory- like a posthypnotic trigger, sealing it away until Jack experienced the specific situation that he’d set as the recall point. It just wasn’t fair on the man to do anything else- having two years of his life stolen from him already was a kick in the teeth, he didn’t need four additional hours to go missing forever. This way, the time stream’s integrity was preserved, nobody went meddling about with temporal instabilities, and Jack would eventually remember what had happened here.

For the recall trigger, the Doctor chose Jack’s return to Torchwood after the year they’d all spent on the Valiant- and he shuddered at THAT thought. He already knew which recall trigger to use for Rose and himself- none of them were exactly pleasant, though he wished it could be different.

That was the last time he’d seen Jack, up until this very moment.

He repeated the steps with the other handful of bottles in the closet, sealing each one up with a cork and putting a time-delay on uncorking themselves. Two rows of corked bottles on the shelves, glowing brightly. The Doctor took a step back to admire his handiwork, reaching over to touch the nearby wall.

With all the memories sealed away, he slid a gentle suggestion into Jack’s mind to sleep, and that half an hour might be a good amount of time to stay under. Up and down the warm, brightly-lit corridors of the ship, any open doors slammed themselves shut- and the halls, the lights, everything started to fade around him as Jack drifted into unconsciousness.

The Doctor opened his eyes, catching Jack’s unconscious body as he slumped forwards and gently lowering him to the grating, rolling him onto his back so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable.

“Shouldn’t you move him to his room?” Donna wondered, and to the Doctor’s surprise, it was his past self who butted in.

“No point. Better to do it this way, make us think we all slammed into a time eddy and got knocked unconscious or something.” the Doctor in leather said, and Pinstripes was inclined to agree.

The Doctor locked eyes with himself, and then came the moment he was dreading.

“Alright. Who’s first?” he said, flat and toneless.

Rose was shaking a little, clinging to her Doctor tightly. He turned and hugged her back, a tight embrace communicating all the feelings too vast for words. He buried his face in Rose’s shoulder, just holding her for a long, quiet moment.

Deep down, he felt that pain of parting, the fear and fury at having what he’d always wanted and having it torn away again. His past self was a boiling cauldron of barely contained rage at the universe, for giving him his heart’s desire and then forcing him to give it away again. The memories tore at the Doctor’s insides, popping like bubbles in boiling water and sinking away as soon as he felt them. Time was changing all around him, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. And the one timeline he’d felt sang to him like a siren, pulling his boat towards the rocks…

“Me.” Rose and the other Doctor spoke at once, turning to face him and shattering his train of thought.

The Doctor could see the look on his past self’s face, and could feel the struggle deep inside of himself. Rose stepped forwards suddenly, making unblinking eye contact with the Doctor.

“Me first.” She said, “That way, if- if something goes wrong with the TARDIS- you two can fix it.”

It was a weak excuse, but- Rose wanted to go first. She was choosing. And he wasn’t going to send her away, ever again. The Doctor nodded and stepped forwards, only for Rose to turn around and step back towards her Doctor, the man in leather.

He’d gone ramrod straight, not that Rose cared- she butted straight into his personal space, cuddling right up against his front. The Doctor glanced away for a moment to see Donna- she’d sat up in the jumpseat and was leaning forwards with a look of pronounced regret etched onto her face. Like she felt guilty for what was about to happen.

The Doctor turned back at the sound of a slightly muffled groan and an odd wet sort of noise, turning back just in time to see Rose and his past self engaged in a deeply passionate snog and an equally-passionate embrace- so close a dime wouldn’t have fit between them. Leather Jacket’s fingers were tangled in Rose’s hair, one hand holding the small of her back and tangled in her hoodie. Rose wasn’t slouching much either, fingernails scraping along short-cropped hair. The Doctor shivered- some of these memories were flowing through to him, and some weren’t. This was one of the ones that wasn’t.

He stamped down on a surge of jealousy- this wasn’t about that. That was the other Doctor’s Rose- and more importantly, that was Rose kissing him goodbye. Getting in the way of that…well.

Not happening.

They broke apart with a gasp from Rose and a quiet whimper from the Doctor, both holding each other as though everyone and everything else had ceased to exist. Rose leaned in and whispered something into his ear that made the Doctor shiver and cling onto her tighter.

The reply, his reply- it wasn’t in English. There wasn’t any way to really convey the proper emotions in such a basal and primitive language as English. The Doctor heard his past self speak, a string of words like plucking on the strings of a violin. An ancient little idiom, summarizing the depths of his feelings. And then it was Rose’s turn to shiver.

They pulled apart, fingertips lingering on each other’s arms, and Rose sounded choked up when she spoke.

“Goodbye, Doctor. I’ll- I’ll see you in a minute, yeah?” she was trying to keep a brave face, bless her. And his past self’s stone mask was cracking- memories of the pain of loss wormed their way through to the present Doctor’s thoughts, his shoulders slumping in sympathy.

Donna sniffled- a noise she was very clearly muffling.

“Goodbye, Rose Tyler.” came the soft reply, and Rose nodded and turned, walking slowly back to the Doctor in pinstripes.

“I’m ready,” she said, and leaned forwards-

To the Doctor’s shock, Rose got up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, prompting him to flush bright red.

“For luck, yeah?” she said, her voice still choked with repressed tears, but a weak smile on her face, “You’re the same man, right? He said as much…”

The Doctor nodded dumbly, and Rose pulled him in for a hug- a brief thing, a quick embrace. It still felt like a gift across the sea of time, and his hearts clenched and then melted.

Rose pulled back, and smiled up at him, and the Doctor reached up. His hands were shaking. When had his hands started shaking?

“Anything special I need to do?” she asked, and the Doctor shook his head.

“Just…relax. You’ll feel…a presence. That’s me…I won’t touch anything you don’t want me to see…you can push me away from anything you don’t want me to touch, alright?”

“Alright,” Rose nodded.

He touched his fingertips to Rose’s temples and closed his eyes, drifting downwards into the blackness- and slamming up against her mind’s defenses. Rose wasn’t stopping him, but deep down she had no desire to forget- and her brain was dealing with that by forcing him to swim through treacle all the way through the outer walls of her mind.

He burst through the other side and fell, through a bright blue sky towards a pavement, catching himself and floating the last few feet down to the ground, taking a look around.

A city street, snaking away in all directions from central hubs in strange paths. Buildings towered overhead, gleaming modern glass budged up against brick and stone- white stone and black brick, artful arches next to a gleaming blue-paned metal colossus. Glowing screens, billboards really, covered some of the buildings here and there- streams of them, ribbons of them, glowing bright colours that flashed and changed with her moods.

Snaking up the sides of every building were dozens of rivers of green, bright floral blooms of red and pink and yellow and so many other colours the sides. They even snaked up the sides of the glass towers, points of life and light against the cool glass and dead shiny steel.

A honk startled him, and the Doctor spun his head towards the source.

He was standing in the middle of the road, and a black cab with blacked-out windows came barrelling towards him. Traffic zipped down all the roads at Mach one, and the cab was on top of him before the Doctor could blink. It hit him- and then phased right through, like he wasn’t even there. Harmless.

The brief contact filled his mouth with the taste of a dozen tangled thoughts- ideas, half-baked, for rescuing them from this time loop, for sending a message to herself after the memories were removed, weeping for the loss- she’d confessed, and now it was gone, all of it was gone.

The tail end of the cab phased through his body, and the thoughts no longer crowded through his mind. The Doctor jumped out of the way of the double-decker sailing straight at him, landing on the sidewalk and watching the lightspeed traffic continuing to blow past.

The billboards flashed through images too quick to see, but most of them were glowing a cold, miserable black- blaring the light aggressively, sparks of other colours swirling down their displays. The flowers swayed in a breeze he couldn’t feel, and the Doctor floated up towards those flowers.

They stopped at the edges of the huge screens, growing underneath them and emerging on the other side to keep snaking up the buildings- he drifted up to examine a vine, peering at the bright bloom from where it poked out above the giant screen.

A soft pink rose, with thorns sunk into the wall- every vine was embedded by its thorns into the stone, so deep that pulling the vine out would take the whole brick with it. He touched the flower, and his mind filled with the sight of Christmas dinner at Nan Prentice’s, glimpsed from very near to the floor- Jackie was in the memory too, her face decades younger…

The Doctor pulled back.

Older memories on the older buildings, then. This one was all brick and stone, the river of plasma TV’s notwithstanding. He needed to find the newest building around.

The Doctor floated up above the street, higher than most of the buildings- nothing else was in the sky here, not a bird, not a plane, nothing. The sky was also remarkably low- he’d barely gotten a hundred feet above the rooftops before he could feel the edge of Rose’s mind creeping towards him. And there, not four streets away-

The Doctor smiled, hearts swelling with affection.

A brand-new tower stood proudly, gleaming glass reflecting the bright blue sky. The building was distinctly alien in its shape, something unearthly and inhuman. The tint on the glass was TARDIS- blue- as if the alien design wasn’t enough of a signal. He floated towards it, drifting down the glass walls towards the topmost blooms.

There was no TV screen on this building, and the flowers didn’t creep all the way to the top- about halfway up the very, very tall tower, as though Rose was expecting her climbing vines to need a lot more real estate in future.

She wasn’t wrong.

He floated up the building, following the vine that had climbed the highest- to a collection of blooms growing along one of the horizontal steel bars in the glass. The thorns here had embedded themselves in the glass and steel, and they were swaying in the sunshine, all wide open and brightly coloured. He touched the closest bloom, coloured a brilliant, almost sterile white, and was struck by a memory of Jack answering the phone and hearing the name “Donna” for the first time.

The Doctor cupped his hands around the flower, wrenching himself from the memory and focusing on sealing it up. In his hands, the bloom closed, wrapping itself back up in green leaves- a bulge on the vine, shut away from the light of the sun.

To the flower, he tied a trigger- walking into Pete’s house, after…after the events of Canary Wharf. No, no, he didn’t- he didn’t want to overwhelm her. A month later, then. A month after, when she walked into Pete’s house, she’d get these memories back.

His hearts cracked just thinking about what the future held for her, for Rose, for his precious girl. He loved her and he’d lost her, and she’d never, ever know.

Except…

As the Doctor closed each bloom on the same vine in turn, cupping them in his hands and carefully closing them up, his jaw tightened. The timelines were in flux, and as he reached the bloom he’d been saving for last, they frayed into two forks.

The bloom was dark blue, streaked with gold. He touched the middle of it, unlike the others, and felt himself embracing and being embraced. Blue eyes, a gruff voice, and love in his single heart full to the point of bursting. Relief and joy, that he KNEW, that he understood. Happiness, delight, love, adoration, thousands of words in millions of languages and the Doctor didn’t have a decent one to sum up the complex mix of emotions swirling in this blue bloom.

It shone with those emotions, glowing against the side of the building, and he cupped it in his hands.

Time to erase it all.

Take it away.

One branch of his forking timeline started to waver, flickering gold-gray-gold-gray…

And his brow furrowed.

_No. _

A snap decision, then. A choice that could potentially doom the universe, kill them all with a paradox. Destabilize the time loop for his own selfish little needs?

Of course.

If he’d just sacked up and told her, so much pain and regret could have been avoided. So much misery, and the damned ship wouldn’t have had him as a willing plaything for so long. He might’ve figured his way out of there sooner had it not been for his aching desire for a second chance.

This… this **was** that second chance.

He closed the bloom, carefully, carefully. Feeling the edges of it, the context, start to blur. The ship and the context faded from the edges of the memory, the specifics turned into indistinct streaks of colours, like ink after spilling water on the page. But the core of the memory, the kiss, the emotions they shared and the confession inherent to it, the knowledge that she’d just saved his life… that, he left untouched.

The Doctor pulled his hands away before the bloom could fully close. It was halfway unfurled, green petals just starting to encapsulate the bright blue. It shone all the brighter, practically luminescent even in the bright sunshine. And it was radiating emotion that glowed up and down the vine now that the context was confined. He cupped it again, just for a moment, to seal it with the same trigger as the others- and pulled away.

The forking timeline flickered, and wobbled, and tenuously bent back into shape.

He ran his fingers tenderly along the side of the building, pressing both hands up against the glass. Whispered a suggestion to Rose’s mind to sleep, and perhaps for half an hour if it would, please. And a warm mental hug, the feeling of love and security- she was safe, now.

He still couldn’t bring himself to say those three little words, but-

He could share his emotions with her.

The world started to fade to black as Rose slipped into unconsciousness- dark black chewing up the sides of the scenery, and the Doctor floated upwards, up past the rooftops, up through the darkening sky. The barrier this time was only too glad to see him gone, and he slipped out of Rose’s mind with a gasp.

Her body slumped against him and he caught her easily, glancing over at the jumpseat- Donna caught his eye and stood up, and the Doctor carried Rose over. He set her down carefully, arranging her limbs so she wouldn’t fall off- laying out on it like a bed.

The Doctor spared a last lingering glance, his hearts clenching, before turning back to face himself.

He was met with an ice-blue stare that could have frozen a river in its tracks.

“You did something in there, didn’t you?” Leather Jacket spat accusingly, “Went in there and messed around, yeah? Had some fun, did you? Typical. Fucking typical. Gamble the universe on our own fucking greed.”

The new-old memory of that rage his past self was feeling roiled up to the surface, and the Doctor in pinstripes did his best to stamp that down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, and the past Doctor stomped up to him and glared at him.

Leather Jacket stalked up to him, leaning in and glaring into his eyes- so close their noses were less than a handswidth apart. He jabbed a finger in Pinstripes’ face, scowl sharpening.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You were in Rose’s head, yeah? You changed something. I saw that timeline flickering. You know what happens when you collapse a fucking stable time loop, you pompous little peacock. Give me _one good reason_ I shouldn’t just go in there and fix whatever it is you just **_FUCKED UP!”_** he roared, and the Doctor swallowed.

“Because it’s Rose.” He said flatly, “Doesn’t she deserve that much? One memory. One. For her. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the _exact same thing.”_

Leather Jacket slumped, all the tension uncoiling from his shoulders and his accusing finger falling away.

He growled and rubbed his face, staring at the grating as though it had suddenly become fascinating.

“Yes. I would do the same. I’d let her keep that memory, because I’m pretty sure I know which one you didn’t erase. I’d let her keep it. But what I would NOT do,” the past-Doctor growled, “is keep the same memory for myself. That’d be selfish. It’d be irresponsible. And it’d put the whole bloody universe at risk. An’ as I recall, we had a TALK about exactly this, yeah?”

Pinstripes’ expression hardened.

That shouting match hadn’t been for nothing. His past self had cottoned on to the timelines that were in flux, centering on his decision in this moment- and they’d had a bit of a shouting match over which one was the _actual_ future, and more importantly, what they should do about it. Yes there was fury in those old blue eyes- but there was also the faint sense that perhaps the meddling he’d been so vehemently against was for the best. The greed deep in his soul for more than he could ask for. And then the greed flickered out, replaced by cold logical fury.

“So when you go in there, keep our little chat in mind, yeah? Do your bloody job, and don’t you dare gamble the universe on our pathetic little daydreams. What we want doesn't matter, so don’t even try it. Got that?” the Past-Doctor snapped, folding his arms.

“Got it. No mucking about.” Pinstripes replied.

“Let’s get this over with,” Leather Jacket snarled, never breaking eye contact.

The Doctor didn’t dignify that with a response- he just put his fingers up to the temples of his past self and closed his eyes.

Touching his own mind was a familiar experience. A momentary bow shock as he breached the surface, and then he was floating in a void, where before him swirled a vast cloud of stardust. A nebulae, sparkling in trillions of colours. Sparks and scraps of impulses swirled together into tiny spheres, winking in the cloud like stars being born; they shone like fireworks in the miasma, blindingly bright, and then faded once the thought had been carried through. Hundreds of stars born and dying every minute, every second- each one a flash of an idea, part of an unending train of thought encompassing five dimensions. Love and life and feelings and memories stored in the endless swirling cloud- it would take a lifetime to go through it all. Fortunately, it was his head- and he knew where to look.

He dove into the warm, blindingly bright miasma of glowing gas, searching around as pinpricks of starlight danced around him. Dust swirled around his fingertips, snaked through with golden threads- and the cloud went on in all directions for miles and miles and miles. He flew through the middle of it, seeking and searching, calling out for the memories he wanted.

Stars swirled around him and exploded into tiny supernovae, flashing and nailing him with their dust- the emotions his past self was feeling permeating the cosmic soup like the heat in a bath. He tried to ignore the impending pain of loss or the growing fear and suspicion, instead reaching out and breaching a hollow pocket in the vast cloud.

Here, in this little clearing, a trillion stars twinkled and shone, spinning slowly-all of them swirling in a chaotic dance. Memories, every one, burning for as long as he lived. Tiny red dwarfs, convective to the core- where the thoughts and feelings outside in the dust ball were blue giants in miniature. Some stars were alone, and others had formed themselves into complex constellations, dancing in lockstep.

There were dozens of these pockets dotted through the dust cloud- with luck, he wouldn’t have to search them all. He reached out a hand to the spiral of stars and sang out a single note, which echoed through the dust and light and into infinity.

Some stars fell from their positions, floating down towards him. Like all the others, they ranged in size from golf balls to soccer balls, and all of them were spinning. Rotating, like real stars- the speed of the rotation tied to how often they were remembered. He reached out and touched the nearest one, the smallest of them all.

A flash of Donna’s face, her incredulity, hit him like a slap to the face, and the Doctor chuckled. He grabbed the star with his bare hands and stopped it spinning- froze it in time, and put a seal on it.

When he reached this very moment, and walked back through the doors of his TARDIS, this and every other star in this constellation would unfreeze, and start to spin again. He repeated the process for every single star, stopping their spin and freezing them in place- locking these memories away.

The last star in the collection was the size of his head, and it was spinning very quickly- if this were a real star, it wouldn’t be spherical from how fast it was rotating. He stared at its blinding glow. Pink and gold, flashing between them like a strobe light.

The Doctor touched it.

The kiss- the frantic kiss, the knowledge that he’d told her how he felt, shared his emotions- she saw him, she knew, and he knew- a tangled knot of feelings slapped him in the face, and the Doctor knew what he SHOULD do.

He should stop this star, freeze it in place, seal it away.

Outside this strange void, on his physical face, the Doctor scowled.

He grabbed the star expertly, slowing its rotation…just a little…a little more…a _little_ more…

As he slowed the spin, it started to glow, brighter and brighter- the edges were blurry, the context unfocused, but the knowledge and meaning it contained encapsulated.

With that precious star still slowly turning, the Doctor carefully released it, floating back slightly and watching as all of them drifted away to hang, suspended. All frozen in time…except for one.

The one that was flashing pink-gold-pink-gold brighter than a quasar.

Dust began to creep towards the stars, emotions of rage and fear tangling and permeating the soup- and the Doctor smirked.

The forking timeline jerked into a new position, one path fading out and one path flaring a brilliant gold. Whether or not that timeline created a paradox had yet to be seen.

A suggestion to himself to sleep drifted through the void, and he could feel his past raging at him, calling him irresponsible, calling him a git and all manner of nasty things- even as the sparkling nebulae started to fade away.

_You need to lock that away you reckless greedy TWAT-_ a rough growl snapped at him from the glowing dust as it started to fade.

_Now, now, _he whispered to himself with a chuckle, _respect your elders. _

The nebula faded completely, and it all went black.

He jerked back into his own body with a start, his past self slumping against him- the Doctor caught his old body and grunted, lowering his past self to the floor.

Everyone was unconscious. All the memories were safely stored. The loop was complete…with a few adjustments.

“C’mon, Donna. We’ve got to get out of here,” the Doctor said, pressing the button on the TARDIS that would start the dematerialization countdown.

A rather red-faced Donna hopped up from the railing she’d settled against and trotted towards the door, feet clanking off the grating as she went. She paused by the entrance, waiting for the Doctor as he slowly walked behind her.

“You alright?” Donna asked, and the Doctor shook his head and spared a glance back at Rose.

“No, Donna. I’m not alright.” He said softly.

The Doctor put his hand on the TARDIS doors and closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the possibility that he’d just broken the time loop.

With visions of reapers and the agony of a possible paradox ringing in his mind, the Doctor pushed open the TARDIS doors and stepped into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Six thousand words, this chapter. Six thousand words, because I don't think jumping into someone's head to muck about with their memories should be as easy as popping out for a coffee.
> 
> So unfortunately I told a dirty lie last week- there is one more chapter, and then an epilogue. And I've been snowed in for a week, so Monday update...probably. 
> 
> Anyway. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Let me know your thoughts and leave a comment! 
> 
> And sorry about the angst.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End.

The Doctor shoved the door open and stepped outside, jaw clenched and eyes closed. He stopped a step away from the TARDIS doors, ramrod stiff, waiting.

Waiting.

All he heard was the distant hum of the ship’s engines and the whirring of the ventilation shaft.

No reapers. No paradox slamming against his time senses.

The time loop was still stable.

But weirdly, the timeline going out from that point…hadn’t jumped the track. He’d felt it wobble a bit, when he was making the changes, but-

It hadn’t changed. The loop hadn’t shifted into its new configuration.

Donna stepped out of the TARDIS behind him, looking around at the un-destroyed universe.

“So…that’s it, then?” she said, “It’s finished? We didn’t destroy the universe?”

The Doctor nodded, hearts sinking. The change he’d made…and…still nothing. Nothing. Maybe this really was a rigid Time Loop. Maybe it defaulted to this conformation no matter what anyone did. Maybe he was just doomed to be miserable, and it really was a fixed point.

He’d had hope there, for a second. Hope that this was one thing he could change. The Doctor shook his head. That kind of selfishness was…unbecoming for a Time Lord.

Although-

He glanced back at the past TARDIS, still standing there resolutely. It hadn’t dematerialized yet. Perhaps-

Donna stepped up and took his hand, pulling him away from the time capsule of what had been. Her face was blotchy and red, and he could see tears welling up in her eyes that she was blinking away.

“Donna?” he asked, “Are you alright?”

“No. I’m- Hah. Should be me, asking you that. You’re the one who’s had his head in an evil computer for the last…I don’t know how long.” She said shakily, “I’m sorry, Doctor.”

He stopped walking and stared at her.

“Sorry for…what? What could you possibly have to be sorry for?” he said, confused and incredulous. There was something- the memories he’d just sealed up, they’d be instrumental in understanding what the fucking fuck Donna was on about-

“I’m sorry. Jack and I- we- We got you two, you and Rose, we got you two to talk it out. We- Jack had this idea that if your past self spat it out, confessed his feelings to Rose, it’d change history, and we could get a message to you like that. That it might help wake you up. And I agreed, and we went along with it, and I’m- I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t realize that it’d all have to be erased…”

Donna hung her head, and the Doctor pulled her in for a hug, patting her back.

“You didn’t know.” He said, sounding a lot more firm than he felt, “It’s not your fault. And I’m awake now, right? That’s what you wanted. You saved my life, Donna. Can’t get mad at you for that, can I?”

Well, actually, yes he could, and yes he should. Rose mucking about with a time loop nearly destroyed the universe- Donna’s fooling about really should have been no different. But…

She did it to save his life. And when he walked through the TARDIS doors, he’d have the memory of the stolen kiss. And could he really fault her for that?

No. Not really. Donna and Jack were only human. And they’d saved his life. And honestly…he was far, far too tired to get worked up about it. The loop was stabilized, he was free- everything was as it should be.

Down to the last, he thought bitterly, glancing back at the past TARDIS.

They broke apart, the Doctor taking Donna’s hand and looking into her eyes.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He told her seriously.

“I- yeah, I did,” Donna said with a weak smile, “I didn’t realize she’d just get yanked away from you again. You- we got you and Rose to spit it out, and then it all got undone. That’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

The Doctor shook his head.

“Sometimes that’s all you can hope for,” he said softly, “You didn’t erase anything, Donna. You helped us steal a moment from the jaws of time- a moment we’ve never have had otherwise. Sometimes, that’s all I can hold on to - human lives are so short, compared to mine, and in the end, all I’ve got are those few little moments. You didn’t erase anything- you bought a memory I’ll treasure forever, Donna. To the end of all my lives. So thank you, and don’t apologize for that.” He said, forcing his voice to stay even and calm and logical.

Like a proper Time Lord. He didn’t want to let on that there was a greedy, lonely man inside of him, screaming at the universe that it WAS unfair, that he DID want more and he’d never have it.

Donna’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and he took her hand, leading her back around the corner.

The Doctor stepped through the doors of his TARDIS, hearing a distant dematerialization echoing down the corridors. Leather Jacket’s TARDIS had left, vworping back to his own point in the timeline. The loop was complete.

The time loop wavered and dimmed from gray to gold- and snapped into another shape in an instant, still stable, still flowing around, and diverting the future onto another track.

He took one step, grating clanking underfoot, then another, and sank to his knees, eyes wide and jaw slack.

Donna’s voice turned into a distant buzz as his mind was FLOODED with a wave, a tsunami of memories, beating against his time sense like hammers on a xylophone.

He was used to conflicting memories taking up space in his head- of a moment happening two ways, once before a change and once after, remembering both versions and keeping them together. The time he’d spent with Rose was forking in his memories, the New Past and the Old Past butting heads for space. He still remembered the timeline where nothing changed between them, the desperate longing that pierced his hearts through the fires of regeneration and out the other side, right up to the point where he lost her beyond the wall.

But a wave of new memories bashed up against them, crowding them out, shoving them into the corner and replacing them with all the countless snatches of time he’d stolen from the reaper; Rose and her Doctor, together, as one.

No rhyme or reason to their emergence, just a torrent of them flowing into his head like the tide and swirling across the beach. He plucked them from the churning shoal, experiencing them as though he was right there, as though it was happening before his eyes. Each memory was a tug on the time stream, making it sing out like the wires on a piano. A note played out to the universe, an alteration to entropy.

The relationship he’d been too much of a coward to strive for, blossoming in his memory like a rose in the sunshine.

* * *

_In the kitchen, cooking. Huge calloused hands, a fingertip running over the recipe in the book that Rose had borrowed from her mother. Rose was stirring the batter, and the Doctor was carefully measuring out the precise amount of fruits for a perfect pie, tossing in a few alien fruits he knew would complement the fresh Earth berries perfectly. _

_Rose giggled, and he looked up. _

_“Hmm?” _

_“You’ve got juice on your nose,” she giggled, hopping up on her toes and pressing up against his front. _

_Rose licked her thumb and rubbed it off, prompting a smile from the Doctor. And hey, if she was already so close…_

_He pulled her in and kissed her forehead, and Rose sighed contentedly._

* * *

The memories just kept pouring in, a torrent of them- the second confession washed into him, and he couldn’t stop the tears anymore. The universe ceased to exist but for the swirling storm in his mind.

He’d rewritten his life with one small change, reliving the moments he’d never experienced. Not in this iteration of the loop. But the Doctor in leather who he’d just bundled off back into the past- he’d live through all of this. This was his future now, set in stone for all eternity, swirling around and around like an eddy in the ocean of time.

The changes of the New Past jangled up against the originals of the Old Past; memories of the conversation a few days after the hospital ship were warping and changing. Two ways to slice it, and the New was crowding out the Old.

The memory of that conversation welled up in his mind, and he let it take him.

* * *

_“Doctor?” _

_“Hmm?” he looked up from the circuit he was in the middle of rewiring, looking at Rose. She knelt at the edge of the grating, biting her lip nervously. _

_“D’you…remember anything odd?” she asked quietly, “Last week, when we…I remember the phone started ringing, and then we all woke up on the grating. You remember that, right?”_

_“Yep. Time eddy, happens sometimes. Sorry about that. Why?” the Doctor’s hearts clenched. Because there was a moment in the blackness, a brief spurt of conscious thought, and he swore that he remembered- _

_“Did you…I mean… this is going to sound crazy, but I think something happened while we were out,” Rose said softly, “And…um…I…I remember that, that we…” _

_The Doctor’s hearts seized. He’d just written off the vision as a dream- the memory of pouring his hearts out to Rose, holding her in his arms in a grey corridor, pride and joy and love for this magnificent woman surging through his soul. _

_“Do you remember…a grey hallway?” Rose said, “And I think…I feel like I saved you, but I don’t remember how or…anything. And I remember, that I, that we- um-“ she started to chew on her thumbnail, and the Doctor reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling it away from her mouth._

_“I think,” he said softly, “I think that it was real, Rose. There was a grey hallway, an’ I thought it was just a dream…” _

_He was holding her hand, and she’d laid down on the grating to look down into his little pit. He was holding her hand, her hot human hand, feeling her pulse spike under his fingertips. The heat from her body was almost boiling, and the Doctor lost himself in her eyes for a moment. They were so close- _

_Rose leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips- a light thing, a gentle thing, barely there and yet stamped on his brain for all eternity. His hearts clenched, and then melted into a fine dribbly syrup. _

_“I don’t think it was a dream,” Rose said, “Because I remember it too. And if it was, well…”_

_“We were dreaming together, I think,” he rumbled, pulling her in for another kiss. _

_The memory had no words. Distant shouting, an open telepathic connection, a grey hallway, and the kiss. Love flowed between them, as it did now- and the Doctor’s hearts squashed in his chest, warmth and affection for his precious girl overflowing inside him. _

_Somehow, some way, the universe was giving him _everything.

* * *

“You changed something, didn’t you? It worked?” Donna’s voice was drifting up at him like it was echoing down a drainpipe, and the Doctor nodded robotically. That conversation had happened in the Old Past, but with a far different, more miserable outcome. Just like dozens of other memories of wanting and aching and pining. Months and months of memories in his old body were shoved aside, the new ones shot through through with warmth and love-

_Little affections showered on him whenever and wherever, each one chipping away at the blocks of ice that had frosted over his hearts. _

_Scary movies in the media room, Rose snuggled up against his side- her terror just an excuse for them to cuddle even closer._

_ So, so many jail cells._

_Bareback Utahraptor riding to impress her- and the indignant spluttering later when Rose said he needn’t have bothered. _

_Jack jokingly telling them to get a room unless they wanted a third wheel-_

He staggered to his feet, stumbling away from where Donna was still speaking and towards the console. Leaning against it, as another memory crashed against him- and he jerked his head to look down the corridor, eyes locked on the dark blue door the TARDIS had moved close. His limbs were stiff and jerky, mind a million miles away, because in that room- in that room-

* * *

_“I got you a present!” Rose said gleefully, holding out an ornately-embossed metal box. A chain was wrapped around it like a ribbon, and the Doctor took it carefully, undoing the simple pin holding the chain in place and lifting the metal lid away. _

_They’d been on a planet populated by Salamanders, or at least that was their name in English- the Mg’toli danced among the flames on a world made of fire, breathing it and swimming in lava as easily as if it was water. Their world was rich in metals and minerals, with a crust that turned over constantly- and their metalworking and glassware were the envy of the galaxy. They’d been visiting to look for parts for the TARDIS, and Rose had, predictably, wandered off. Fortunately, she’d wandered back again before getting into trouble, holding the metal box_ _ with a pleased smile on her face. _

_“Didn’t have any wrapping paper at the stall, sorry,” Rose said with a smile and the Doctor shook his head. _

_“They don’t have paper, Rose. Plants here are all small, they don’t have trees-“ his lecture froze mid-sentence when he saw what Rose had gotten him. _

_A glass sculpture, in the shape of an egg with a flat bottom. A glass drop, clear like running water- and suspended inside, a flower. It looked like a rose, but with curled thorns- a local plant, he knew. A symbol of renewal, a symbol of trust. A glass flower with dark blue petals and a golden stem, floating in a glass ball. Seitzi, the locals called it- a glass egg to be laid in the nest where the family slept together. Like an engagement ring on Earth, something to be given to the person you loved._

_He clutched the glass egg in his hands, letting the empty metal box hit the floor, and admired it. Art and trinkets and baubles festooned his ship, and this one stood above the rest. He knew just the place for this to go. _

_“The lady at the stall makes them. She said it was a perfect gift for a ‘prospective mate’. Reckon we’re well past ‘prospective’ and straight into mates, so better late than never, eh?” Rose said with a cheeky wink, and the Doctor pulled her in close for a hug._

_“You’re not wrong. This is magnificent- whoever you bought this from is a master of the craft…” the Doctor turned, his smile softening as he switched out of lecture mode. _

_“I don’t suppose she told you what giving one of these means?” _

_Rose nodded, and the Doctor’s hearts did a little flip. _

_She pulled him in for a hug, letting her warmth penetrate through his jacket and dragging a daft smile onto his face. _

_The Doctor returned those affections for a moment, before his impatience got the better of him. He grabbed her hand and lead her down the corridor. Placing the Seitzi was something that should be done together, after all._

* * *

The Doctor stumbled down the hall, mind reeling- it was never like this, typically. Never so much all at once, never so overwhelming. The loop he’d shoved into a new shape was titanic, spanning years- new memories forming, old ones withering, others adjusting. A new shape for the cycle, and it would spin on like this into infinity.

Dozens of things had changed, a brighter time stream glowing down the loop. They rattled off in his mind like bullets from a machine gun, a rapid-fire stream of New Past shredding through Old Past like wet paper.

Rose had turned down Mickey’s offer of a hotel within earshot of the TARDIS.

Rose had danced with him, so many times, in so many places.

She’d wept for him when he’d burned in the fires of regeneration.

When Cassandra had taken her body on New Earth, it hadn’t fooled him for an instant. Her callous behaviour and off-putting accent and snog that didn’t taste right snapped him to attention mere minutes after the switch.

He’d cut off the time windows on the Madame De Pompadour without much fiddling- after the second trip through the fireplace, he’d seen an older Reinette and immediately decided to nip all this nonsense in the bud rather than fiddling around with a fixed point like an oaf.

The changes to the here and the now, the adventures on the hospital ship; those were fresh and bright in his mind, glowing like fireworks as the Old Past went up in flames.

* * *

_From the minute he saw her on that reddened plain, their embrace was passionate and desperate- no longer was she leading him into every kiss, every hug, every touch. Feelings were reciprocated, shared and displayed openly for all to see. _

_Disapproving blue eyes watched with scorn as she led him around by the tie, hearts beating in joy that he’d found her here on his home planet. The concerns in the library were distant; Taurans, a Donna in leather, and a broken collective mind were all secondary to reconnecting with his lost love. _

_But when she led him by the tie to his bed, the cracks started to show. _

_The outer shape of her mind was wrong, a hollowness ringing from the depths; like this Rose was just an empty husk, not his pink and yellow girl. He knew what she should taste like, what her mind should feel like when they were close like this; and nothing, nothing was right._

_The hollow notes stuck with him all the way to the end, when he was totting up the evidence under Dix’s approving gaze. Thoughts racing in his mind as he added it all up, turning towards the console to enact his vengeance. And when the Not-Rose creature warped his thoughts, the pain of his past self approaching a paradox blew him from the trance just as it had before. _

_But what cemented it was what he remembered just after._

_He’d had the memory of his first kiss, of course; hazy and blurred, rough around the edges. Shades of grey and a distant voice yelling as he opened his hearts and mind to Rose. Standing there in the console room on that fake TARDIS, time had warped around him; the memory in his mind sharpened, the blurriness gone. He remembered it all with crisp clarity- embracing her after she’d saved his life from the encroaching arms, the demented machinery. Their first kiss with Donna roaring behind them, restored to its full splendour in his memory. _

_It was like time itself unfurling and smacking him in the face with the inherent unreality of the woman before him. _

_And when the time came to punish the Not-Rose creature, the Doctor took great pleasure in flinging its screaming hide from his ship._

* * *

Countless alterations flowed through his fingers like grains of sand, and he slumped against the door to his bedroom, hand on the knob, shaking. There was something beyond the door that SHOULD be there, that MIGHT be there- if the memories were real, if the changes were real-

Donna’s voice was calling out for him, and he staggered through the door, not hearing what she was saying, what was happening around him.

Another memory swept over him, a memory from after the Game Station. Not his last body, but this one, _this_ body.

He let it wash him away.

* * *

_Crowds choked the streets, confetti and shouts of jubilation falling from every balcony as the masses cheered and screamed for joy. He was smiling so hard his face hurt- and next to him, Rose was grinning too. She looked beautiful in a long golden dress that shone in the sun, her hair tied back with a blue ribbon that his fingers itched to undo._

_May 8th, 1945, in London. VE Day. They’d already been to Buckingham palace to hear the King’s speech; listened to Churchill’s triumphant announcement on the radio; and now they were in a side street, surrounded by jubilant crowds._

_“They’re all so happy!” Rose gushed, waving at a couple of men in uniform who waved back and cheered. Families were singing, and nearby an impromptu band had formed- a gaggle of locals with instruments were playing jovial songs of victory and peace, a few couples dancing under the bright May sunshine. _

_The impromptu street band were all older folks, bright trumpets honking out an upbeat tune as a man with a cello thundered away several octaves below them. It was like every instrument on the street that had been stored away for seven years was out on parade, a mismatched crew that came together for a brilliant concerto. _

_“They’ve won,” the Doctor replied as he pulled her in close, “Hitler’s dead, the war is over, and their sons and fathers and brothers can come home. You’ve all won.” There was pride in his eyes, and he pulled Rose close, cradling her in his arms and grinning with delight. Rose tipped her head back and got up on her tiptoes, plating a warm kiss on his lips. His hearts beat double-time- how had he gotten so lucky? _

_The Doctor beamed and let go, and then a thought caught him. He started pulling her towards the musicians- several couples were already dancing in the streets, young men in uniform laughing with beautiful women in simple gowns. Peace, peace in their time; at long bloody last. _

_“Remember our first dance?” he asked, and Rose nodded, following along eagerly. _

_“Dancing to In The Mood as the bombs fell outside? Oh, I remember alright. How could I forget?” _

_The Doctor shrugged with a broad smile on his face, reeling her in with one hand and starting up a simple waltz there and then, like many of the other couples. _

_Rose, clever Rose, picked up on the dance moves the others were swinging along to in an instant; she pulled the Doctor in, giggling and giving him one of her tongue-touched smiles. The joy in the air was infectious; relief and triumph, freedom from conflict, a bright future to look forward to, shining in every eye on the street. _

_“You and the War,” Rose giggled as they spun together, “This your idea of a romantic day out?” _

_“Sort of, yeah!” The Doctor imitated his old voice, and earned himself a kiss on the cheek for his trouble. Bit of a distraction, that; his hearts thumped, and he momentarily forgot about the uneven ground below them. He stumbled a little on a hole in the flagstones, catching himself with a clumsy grace that had her laughing. _

_“Thought you said you remembered how to dance?” she teased, and he grinned wolfishly. _

_“Oh, I’ll show you dancing, Rose Tyler!” he rumbled, pulling her into a complicated waltz that had them both staggering and stumbling across the uneven ground. He twirled her, joy thundering in his chest, grinning so hard it hurt. _

_Pulled her back against him, pressed flush chest to chest and holding her close. Warm love bubbling in his breast, the infectious joy that permeated the air sinking down and settling on him like a cozy blanket. On an impulse he cupped the side of her face, his precious girl. _

_“How long you gonna stay with me, Rose Tyler?” he whispered, and she looked up at him with wide eyes full of love. _

_“Forever.” _

_His hearts stuttered. _

_Their rather passionate snog was rather swiftly interrupted by a flashbulb going off, and the Doctor jerked his head up to see a journalist with a camera turning and walking away. Oh dear, that couldn’t make the papers tomorrow. What a disaster that could be!_

_He grabbed Rose’s hand with a huge grin. _

_“RUN!” _

* * *

He flung his bedroom door open, eyes falling on the mantelpiece on the far wall. Dark blue sheets, a room dripping in trinkets and baubles and ornaments. There were few clear spaces in the hoard of knickknacks, and yet amid all the clutter and clocks and coats with celery pinned on, the mantelpiece above the fireplace was clear of any ornaments. 

All except one.

A glass egg, containing a gold-stemmed flower with dark blue petals.

He grabbed it, feeling the warmth that still burned through the precious gift, and clutched it tightly to his chest. Let its warmth flow into his hearts, imagined that it was her pressed against him.

Despite it all, despite the Seitzi from nothing, despite the torrent of change, some things had stayed the same.

The battle of Canary Wharf blazed in his mind, just the same as before. He remembered pounding on the white wall and screaming his hatred at the universe for tearing her from his hands. A fraction of a second to rip apart the only thing he’d wanted in this life, in this body.

There was no going back on that. Some things were fixed. Some things couldn’t be changed.

Despite everything he’d done, despite all of time distorting to his whims, Rose Tyler was still gone. And she was _never_ coming back.

She was gone.

And yet.

He looked down at the glass egg, at the hand-blown blue-petalled flower floating in the clear material.

From time’s reaping scythe he’d stolen her heart, and she’d stolen both of his.

Those memories were never going to change. Those experiences couldn’t be torn away. If he lived another ten thousand years and forgot the stars, he’d still have held her in his arms.

She was still with him.

She was still here, would always be here, in his hearts, forever.

The pain of regret shrivelled away into a corner of his mind along with every dead timeline he’d glimpsed and discarded- replaced with the aching pain of loss, the desperation for just one more day in her arms.

It hurt so much more.

It was _so much better._

“Better to have loved and lost,” Donna had said in the elevator. And she was right. She was so, so right.

He’d loved her, and he’d lost her; and she’d loved him too.

He held the glass egg to his chest and wept.


	25. Epilogue

The TV flickered in front of him, some film playing away in front of an unfocused and uncaring audience.

Donna was sitting on the opposite end of the couch, a comfortable distance between them; the TARDIS liked to surreptitiously adjust the size of the sofa when he wasn’t looking to facilitate that, the Doctor had noticed. It was a companionable sort of silence- just resting, mentally and physically, after a long and harrowing adventure. A little tradition with them.

The Doctor looked down at the beer Donna had shoved into his hands, lifting it up to his lips and taking a sip. He smacked his lips and swallowed it down. Beer wasn’t his favourite thing, but Donna had gone to all the trouble of finding a kind she liked and pouring it into one of his best flagons for him. It just seemed a crying shame to waste it after she’d made the effort.

Donna took a sip of her pint, breathing a sigh of relief. She wasn’t a heavy drinker by any means, but unwinding in front of the telly with a pint was something she liked to do after every adventure- the Doctor suspected that were he to spend the night at the Noble home, Wilf would probably do the same thing.

He took another sip of his pint and leaned forwards, plonking it on the table and grabbing hold of the glass Seitzi instead. It was warm to the touch, still- despite the fact that it hadn’t been in his hands for a good twenty minutes. Always warm, from the inside.

He turned it over in his hands, the fist-sized piece of glass warming them up and chasing away the beer’s chill. He sighed and rubbed his fingers over it, flopping back on the sofa with it in his hands.

“So is this how things normally go with you?” Donna said after a moment’s pause, eyes staring through the documentary on the screen, “The time stuff, I mean. ‘Cause I remember what happened before Jack and I met, but now there’s just this…extra pile of stuff on top. Is that…is that normal?”

The Doctor hummed, cradling the smooth glass egg in his hands and resisting an urge to press it against his forehead or cheek.

“It’s very normal. I mean…as normal as anything in a time loop ever is. Which is to say, not normal at all. But, ah, to answer your question…overlapping memory is very, very common when you’ve been time travelling awhile. It’s…a bit overwhelming, if you’re not used to it.”

“And it’s still overwhelming even if you ARE used to it. Don’t try and play off your little stumbles earlier, I saw you. Staggering around like a newborn giraffe.” Donna chided, and the Doctor snorted. It wasn’t THAT amusing, but…

“It…it was a lot,” he confessed, “Years of time, Donna. That was not a small time loop we just tinkered with. It was an awful lot all at once…I’m amazed I didn’t just sink to the floor and lay there until it was all done.”

“Yeah, about that…” Donna put her pint glass down and turned to look at him, still leaned back, “Manchester, you know? You with the ears. When he becomes you…if I’m making sense…but when he becomes you, he’ll have done all this stuff differently, yeah? So when he gets to here and he’s having this conversation, will he remember the same stuff that we just overwrote…? Bloody hell, what AM I going on about, and how the hell did I say all that like it was NORMAL…?”

The Doctor snorted.

“No, no, I get what you mean. Loops…technically there’s no starting and stopping points, and one turn of the loop bleeds into the next without a line, but…if it helps you to think of each revolution of the time loop as having a number, do that. Let’s say you and I are in loop one. We just cleared the loop after changing it. Loop two will follow on in the pattern we just set, and so on, forever. So…no. Next time this conversation happens, their Old Past won’t be the same as our Old Past. If that makes any sense.”

Donna grabbed her beer and very loudly and obnoxiously slurped at it.

“No.” She said flatly, “That makes no sense _at all.”_

The Doctor chuckled, and this time he meant it.

Donna just rolled her eyes and started to flip channels, stopping on the first thing that looked vaguely interesting. Waves crashed against the prow of a ship, and she took another sip of her beer. The Doctor just zoned out and continued to run his fingers over the smooth glass, lost in thought.

As the film played away in front of him, the Doctor held the glass egg up and finally gave in to the urge. He pressed it against his forehead and sighed at the smooth, warm glass, brushing against his face. It felt nice in a primal, instinctive sort of way- his skin was just happy to be in contact with it. More importantly, it was a piece of Rose’s love, kissing his cheek.

That thought made his hearts clench a bit.

He opened his eyes a few seconds later, putting the egg in his lap. Donna cleared her throat, and he turned to face her.

She glanced down at the egg, eyes flicking up to meet his gaze again.

“She’s still gone, then?” Donna said softly, “That didn’t change. She’s still gone. I remember…in the new memories, I remember you were a lot…worse. When I first met you. And…that’s my fault, isn’t it? Jack and I, we brought you together, and you still got torn apart…”

The Doctor nodded, eyes falling on the glass egg.

“Are…are you okay with that?” Donna said, her voice choked as she looked away, “Are you okay?”

The Doctor hummed thoughtfully.

_“’Tis better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.”_ He rumbled, tracing his thumb down the side of the egg, “All we are is our memories, Donna. You are what you remember. Your experiences shape you, as you shape your experiences. So…”

He closed his eyes.

“I think I’m okay with it.” he said quietly, “I…I miss her. I miss her more than I can…I don’t have the words. Five billion languages in this head of mine, and only one of them’s even close to good enough. And it’s still not enough, really. Nothing ever is.”

“Well, spit it out then, in whatever language you like. I’m here to listen, Doctor. Get it off your chest.”

“You wouldn’t understand it,” he said warningly, and Donna shrugged.

“Sometimes you don’t, when you’re letting someone get things off their chest. Sometimes you don’t understand why what’s been bothering them is so important, or why they care so much about someone’s opinion, or why they’re so hung up on things being a certain way. Sometimes you just don’t get it…and you’re still there. Still listening. That’s the _point,_ you big git.” She raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to argue.

The Doctor snorted, flopping back against the couch and staring at the ceiling, getting his thoughts in order.

“I suppose so,” he said weakly, and then closed his eyes.

Donna sat back, waiting patiently.

He drew in a deep breath, and started to speak.

A deep reverberation, fingers plucking on the strings of a cello, rang through the room. Metal rasped on metal, clank clank clank, the gears of time turning in his voice, his words. Discordant melodies wound through the music, like multiple radios tuned to different stations; a mournful bell tolled, once, twice, a dozen times, the pealing from the belfry to summon the faithful to the memorial. And yet under it all there was this thread, the upbeat strains of a fiddle, of singing and clapping to a lively tune; a party with loved ones, singing along to a song everyone had known since childhood. An accordion honked and hummed along in time with the undertones, bright lively notes like fireworks against a black night sky; as the storm rolled in, there was still music and laughter and love. Each note of the ethereal melody drifted into the distance, fading slowly as he drew the song to a close.

The last note vanished into the air, and his head dropped.

Donna just nodded mutely. The sounds themselves carried the emotions, even if the words and the nuance were lost. Mourning and rejoicing, crying and laughing; ‘_better to have loved and lost’_ indeed.

“That bad, hey?” she chuckled weakly, throat constricted.

“About that bad, yeah,” he replied, a ghost of a smile on his face.

Donna scooted over and put an arm over his shoulder, pulling him down for one of those awkward couch hugs where they couldn’t quite embrace as fully as they wanted.

Still.

It was good enough.

The Doctor hugged her tight, just for a second more, and Donna patted his back, letting him relax a little. The egg rolled down the couch cushions and nestled against his hip, the human warmth from inside chasing away his body’s natural chill.

Donna pulled away a second later, scooting back to the comfortable distance between them; the Doctor sighed, feeling slightly bereft. As he always did.

They sat in silence for a bit, the film flickering away in the foreground. It was something peaceful and contemplative- the story of a ship captain on a distant sea, keeping himself sane as he tried to cross an ocean without his engines. He had sails, and a compass and sextant- and a small, loyal crew to help him. A slow-paced film, perfect for a time like this.

Donna sipped her pint, putting it down- she’d barely touched it, just like him.

He picked up the egg and stared into the depths of it, mind swirling.

Donna yawned, shifting on the sofa and blinking a few times.

“M’bloody knackered,” she muttered, “Too much running and jumping and heroics for one day.”

He smiled- all those Donna had pulled to save him- both hims- were ringing out in his memories. If anyone had a right to be exhausted, it was her.

“You should go get some rest,” he said, “it’s been a big day. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

This was met by an unusually long silence, and the Doctor turned to see Donna looking at him with a half-frown on her face.

“Doctor?” Donna asked, and he looked up again.

“Yeah?”

“When was the last time _you _got some sleep?”

He blinked a few times, taken aback. What? What kind of question was that?

“Roughly…four hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty-five seconds ago.” He said, quirking an eyebrow, “Why?”

“That wasn’t sleeping, that was having your brains cooked on a skillet. I know you. You haven’t slept in ages. When was the last time you actually, properly _slept?”_

The Doctor looked at the floor.

“Two weeks ago,” he muttered, and shook his head, “It’s fine, Donna. Time Lords don’t need as much sleep as humans, I don’t-“

“Well, then how much sleep DO your lot need?” Donna asked, piercing him with her gaze.

“…Eight hours, once weekly.” The Doctor mumbled, looking at the floor.

Donna nodded.

“You should go get some sleep.” She said quietly, “Take care of yourself, Doctor. If I’m exhausted after all today’s nonsense, lord knows how you’re holding up. You shouldn’t treat yourself so poorly.”

He stared at the Seitzi and snorted.

“I’m fine for another week, honestly. The once-a-week thing is just a suggestion. I don’t need it.”

Donna scowled and folded her arms, turning back to the TV.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” she snapped, “Why? What’s the appeal of self-abuse?”

He stared at the little blue-petalled flower floating in the clear glass, fingers running over the surface. A thought permeated his mind- _what would Rose think of him doing this?_

“I don’t know.” He finished finally. “I don’t know.”

Donna nodded.

“Doctor? Go get some sleep.” she said softly, turning off the TV, “You need it just as much as I do. It’s been a long bloody day, and we’ve both earned a proper rest.”

She stood up and offered her hand, which the Doctor took. She pulled him to his feet, dropping his hand and padding towards the door in her socks.

The TARDIS, it seemed, agreed with Donna- when he stepped into the hallway, their bedroom doors had moved to be right across the hall from the media room. His painted dark blue, and hers with DONNA NOBLE carved into the rich mahogany wood.

“Goodnight, Doctor,” Donna said with a yawn, “Get some rest, yeah? And I do mean it. Don’t just go and hide under the grating until I wake up. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

The Doctor snorted, still holding his egg.

“If you say so,” he replied, “Sleep well, Donna.”

She closed her door with a clunk, leaving him standing in the hallway by himself. He cast a glance towards the console room, wondering if it might be worth catching up on some maintenance, only for the TARDIS’s hum to sharpen into something definitely annoyed.

“Oh, don’t YOU start,” he muttered, scanning his iris on the notch on his door and twisting the handle to step into his room. The TARDIS’s hum smoothed out to something more pleased, and the Doctor rolled his eyes. Great. He was getting negged by his _ship._

The Doctor sighed and placed the Seitzi on his bedside table, taking in the dark blue colours and the clutter, the shoes and knickknacks and trophies and books.

And there it sat as he got ready for bed, tossing his clothes about and hopping into Howard’s stolen jimjams, settling under the covers and staring at the ceiling like a petulant child.

His bedroom ceiling swirled with a galaxy, projected there by the TARDIS; he examined the edges of it, determining very quickly that it was the Milky Way.

He sighed and rolled onto his side, eyes locked on the Seitzi.

He didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want to sleep.

The slim golden stem caught his eye, and he thought of her, on the other side of the void.

She’d want him to take care of himself.

The Doctor closed his eyes.

A moment later, the swirling stars on his ceiling changed. The Milky Way shifted, the long spiral arms twisting themselves into shapes made of starlight in a smooth cosmic dance. Meaningless scribbles, looked at from below- but if he’d opened his eyes, he’d have seen something different.

Reflected in the curved glass of the Seitzi, the starlight spelled out two words.

BAD WOLF.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. 
> 
> Wow, this is...this is a big one for me. Never before have I successfully _finished_ a fic of this length before, bringing it through to the end. The weekly updates are something I'm going to stick to in future, because it worked fantastically here. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta Kippysaurus for looking over every chapter in advance, and an additional gigantic thanks to Wy for tolerating my insane ramblings while I was working on it. Without you two, this adventure would never have gotten off the ground. 
> 
> And finally...thank you so much to everyone who followed this behemoth from the beginning, or the middle, or last week! All of you mean the world to me, and I'm so glad you enjoyed this torrent of words from my brain. You guys fed this fire, you kept it burning, and you kept me motivated to see this through to the end. So thank you- all of you. Everyone who left kudos, who commented, and who followed along silently. I hope you'll tag along on the next adventure, but if not- it's been a pleasure.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the ride.


End file.
